When the Last One Falls
by PteraWaters
Summary: Angel and Spike face irksome rivals, relationship issues, guest stars and visions from hell in this rewrite of the end of Season Five. Follows 'Tempestuous Time Bomb' in my series, but please start here if you'd like. Humor/Romance/Action/Etc./Etc.
1. The Girl in Question Part 1

_A/N: Greetings Readers! __Right off the bat, I want to give big thanks to Happyangstywriter, who came up with the title for me. I really recommend Angsty's stuff, so you should go check it out!_

_So, this is the last installment in my AU rewrite of the end of season 5, but don't worry, it's going to be a lot longer than my previous episodes. If you're new to the series, it starts at 'A Different Hole in the World', and continues on from there. I've gotten better at writing since that first one was posted, so you might want to start here with this first chapter to see if it's a series you want to get into. Since I'm ripping off the actual episodes fairly closely, all you really need to know is Spike gets Cordelia's visions and he and Angel are together. _

_This first part is based on The Girl in Question, which has to be my all-time favorite episode of Angel. I hope you like my take on it! I'm still working on later chapters, and have hardly anything done for Power Play and Not Fade Away, so I'll be posting fairly erratically. __Especially given that I'm going to be putting serious hours in at work in the next few months.__ I'm hoping to be able to post every few days or so, but I can't promise anything.  
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_But please, enjoy!  
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The Girl in Question - Part 1

Angel and Gunn came barreling into the ponce's office just as I was fighting one of the level bosses in my newest video game. I had been waiting in Angel's office for a good hour, sprawled out in my favorite chair with my feet on his desk and working my way toward this bloody pixilated fire demon. I was doing really well until those two wankers came in and disturbed my concentration. Not that I was really all that upset to see Angel at least. Especially when he bent down to kiss my temple on his way into the room, after making sure the coast was clear. Though his friends all knew about us now, Angel still wanted to keep our relationship private, from the Senior Partners, especially.

"This needs to be handled delicately," Gunn told Angel, waving a file folder at him. "Wait, why are we sending Spike, again?"

"What?" I asked, trying to figure out why they were talking about me while dodging a fuck-ton of fireballs. "Where are we sending Spike?"

Gunn seemed to ignore me, saying, "If we don't get the Capo's body back to his family in the next," he glanced at his watch, "twenty-six hours, we're facing a bloody gang war."

"Why the expiration date on a stiff?" I asked. "What? Is he going to get deader?"

"No," Gunn explained, "he _stays_ dead. Unless his family gets the body back and can perform the rituals in time."

"Great," said Angel, dropping my feet from his desk and grabbing the game from my hands.

"Oi! You bloody fucking wanker!" I yelled, but not because I really meant it. Okay, maybe I meant it a little. I hadn't saved yet. Plus, insulting Angel keeps that head of his from getting too big.

Angel ignored me, instead asking Gunn, "Where did you say the Capo died?"

The lawyer opened the file and glanced at it, "Rome."

"Okay, Spike," he said. "You're going to Italy."

"But, pet," I complained, looking for some excuse not to be Angel's errand boy as well as his fuck toy, "I don't speak the language!" And I didn't want to be away from him if I didn't have to.

"Then we'll get you a book, hon," he replied snidely, answering the phone when it rang. "Yeah?"

"This is completely unfair, Angel," I shouted at him, wondering how he could even think about just sending me out of the country with no warning, and without him. "Bugger this! Do it yourself!" As Angel listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone, his face fell, lips tightening grimly. "What?" I asked as he hung up.

Looking up, he whispered, "It's Buffy."

"What about Buffy?" I asked him, my gut falling in desperate anticipation of the bad news. "She's not dead again is she, Ange?"

"No," he told me. "It's worse."

"What's worse than dead?" Gunn asked. That torture demon he'd spent time with in Wolfram and Hart's holding dimension mustn't have been very good at his job, or Gunn would already know one of the answers to his question.

Angel grabbed his jacket and circled the desk heading past me toward the door, saying, "The Immortal."

* * *

" No! Why did it have to be him?" Spike exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air and following me from the office.

"Okay, back up a step," said Gunn behind us. "Who's the Immortal?"

"My mortal enemy," I told him, stopping just before the doorway and turning around to face the two of them.

"_Our_ mortal enemy," Spike corrected.

"What?" Gunn asked Spike. "You're sharing Angel's mortal enemies now?" Lowering his voice he continued, "Along with his bed?"

Spike and I both gave Gunn looks that told him how stupid he was being. Maybe it was just the way he found out, but Gunn had been having trouble wrapping his brain around how Spike and I felt about each other. Or he was uncomfortable with it and was taking it out on Spike.

"No, mate," my partner snarled. "He's the vilest evil hell ever spewed forth."

"You know," I pointed out. "This whole Capo thing sounds just like him."

"He whacks the Capo to lure you to Rome?" Spike asked. He moved to put his hand on my arm, but then stopped as he asked, "And where does Buffy come in?"

"He takes out a slayer and a vampire with a soul." I replied, trying not to be hurt by how he shied away from me at the mention of the girl. But of all the things that could really get between us, she was the most important.

"And starts a gang war to boot," Gunn shook his head. "Man this guy's good."

"Not if I can stop him in time." I left the office, saying as I passed, "Harmony, have the jet fueled and ready to go." When Spike cried out in pain and dropped to the ground, I grudgingly looked back.

"What? A vision? _Now_?" I asked him, exasperated and anxious to get on a plane and reach Buffy's side. Without Spike's interference if at all possible. It would just be better for everyone involved if I could leave him behind.

"Ow! Ow!" he yelled, grasping his head a little too dramatically. "It looks really bad, Angel." I sniffed the air, picking up no scent of the anguish that Spike usually feels along with a vision. And, I'd fed on him the night before, so I would have felt a tiny echo of his pain in my head if it was a real vision.

"What do you see, Spike?" asked Gunn, totally sucked in by his little performance. "Where are we needed?"

"Uh…" Spike stalled, noticing my skeptical look as he opened one eye and then shut it again tightly. "There's a little girl, being held hostage by all these…uh…cult members. They're going to sacrifice her!"

"Where, Spike?" Gunn asked. "Where is she?"

"Angel!" Spike cried, and I knew exactly what he was doing – trying to keep me away from Buffy, even if she was in danger. Just like I wanted to keep him away from her by leaving him here in LA. "You've got to search the tunnels! They've got her underground, near a park somewhere."

I pulled the jackass to his feet and turned his lies around on him, saying, "New plan. You stay here and look for this little girl. I'll go to Rome."

"But, Ange. This really _felt_ like something you should be doing. That little girl needs you." He sighed like he was disappointed, "I'll go help Buffy by m'self."

I knew he cared about me, I _knew_ it, but it looked like he was still obsessed with Buffy. He was pushing way too hard to go see her, to go save her, without me. "No, that little girl needs _you_," I insisted. "Buffy needs _me_."

"No!" He pushed me in irritation. "You can't go by yourself."

"Sorry, Spike. If we've got two cases and two champions, it looks like you can't come with me to Rome."

He growled a frustrated noise and barred my progress toward the exit. "Alright, fine! I lied! There wasn't any vision."

"I know!" Spike scoffed in disappointment and Gunn left, shaking his head. "I _can tell_ when you're lying, jackass!"

"Well, I'm still comin' with, aren't I?"

"No!" I snapped. "Stay here, Spike. I can take care of this by myself."

He laughed harshly as he joined me in the elevator anyway. "Look, either you save Buffy and come up looking like a hero without me, or the Immortal kills you, which would be sad."

I scoffed. "The Immortal won't kill me." As the elevator doors closed, I added a sarcastic, "Hon."

"Not if I'm with you," he insisted, and I gave in. He could come with me, but there was no way I was leaving him and Buffy alone together. No freaking way.

* * *

Later in the plane, Spike said, "Just admit it, Angel. You think you're gonna swoop in and save Buffy. Maybe have her all to yourself again."

"I'm already seeing someone," I muttered.

"Hah! Like I don't know who you'd choose in a contest between me and Buffy."

"It's not that simple, Spike," I growled.

"Sure it is. If we save Buffy and she says to you 'Angel, you big strong hunk, I want you back', I'd lose every time. Don't deny it. It's the exact same choice I would make."

Damn it! That's what I was afraid of. We were going to find Buffy and he was going to leave me for her. Why wouldn't he just stay in LA like I told him to? "Argh!" I growled in frustration. "I don't know, okay? I don't know who I'd choose."

"Oh, that's right," he drawled, giving me an evil grin. "I'm the safer choice, aren't I? Because you don't really love me. That's Angel, choosing the fate of the world over love."

I wanted to strangle him and tell him that yes, I did really love him. I wanted to pound the words into his thick skull with a sledge hammer. But I didn't dare. Because I knew that as much as he liked being with me, as much as he liked having a place to belong, _he_ didn't love _me_. He wouldn't say it, in any case.

I spat over at him, "This isn't about us, Spike."

"You and Buffy?"

"Me and you. This is about making sure Buffy stays alive. Oh, and picking up that demon body thingy." I looked over, catching his eye. "When this is all over and we get back home," assuming he _would_ come home and not go traipsing around Europe with the love of my life, "then this can be about you and me, okay? Until then, partners?"

Spike sighed and muttered, "Just like old times."

Indeed, I thought, remembering those eighteen years or so we spent as part of a family. And now, so many years later, we were all that was left. I couldn't lose that again, the comfort of family. Not when it meant losing the man I loved as well. "Do you want a drink?"

"God, yes," he whispered.

* * *

"Wow," said Angel much later, when the tables were covered with wee liquor bottles, all empty. "You really can't get drunk off these things." He took one more swig before tossing the last empty bottle down. We were sitting on opposing sides of the plane, and I wondered if the space between us was because of the Wolfram and Hart pilots watching us from the cockpit or because I'd called him on his ambiguous feelings toward me. I'd thought he loved me, but he wouldn't admit it, the git. Not that I'd admitted my feelings for him, either.

"Not us, anyway," I agreed. "Vampire constitution. Not always a plus." I watched him shuffle through the bottles, looking for one that wasn't completely empty. "How'd you know?"

"'Cause I've drunk a bunch of these little things and I still don't like you."

"Oh, ha, ha," I replied, hoping he was being just as sarcastic. "I meant, how'd you know about Buffy?"

"From a source," he hedged.

"Ange, luv, what source?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Have you had someone spying on her?" I asked, taking his non-denial as proof that he had. Briefly I wondered why I hadn't thought of it, but I didn't let on that I was jealous. "Oh, Angel! Having your lackeys doing your stalking for you?"

"It's just...Buffy," he said dejectedly. "I wanted to make sure she was safe."

"How many guys have you got on her?"

"Just the one. Got knocked out and called me from the hospital."

"Well you should've had more!" I insisted.

He sighed, "Yeah."

We sat in silence for a few moments as I worried about Buffy. What evil things would the Immortal have planned for her once we got there? Did he even know I loved Buffy as much as Angel did? Maybe he wouldn't be expecting the both of us. Back in the old days, when Angelus and I ran together, the Immortal was one of the few willing to take us on. And now I was a lot older, a lot stronger. I prayed I was strong enough that Angel and I could defeat him. That the Immortal wouldn't be able to kill either of the people I loved.

The plane made a noise and Angel looked out the window, saying, "We'll be landing soon." He sighed. "Do you remember the last time we were in Italy?"

"Little beatnik joint in downtown Rome? All the people full of wine and reefer? As if it were yesterday…"

"Wait," he stopped me, "I wasn't in Italy in the fifties!"

"Oh, right. I s'pose you weren't, then." I thought back. When had Angel been in Italy? Had I been made yet? Oh. "1894?"

He nodded, "The room of pain." We both fell into silent reverie, remembering the last time we'd both come up against the Immortal. I almost smiled at the memories of he and I, working together to try to get back at the git, but stifled it when I caught Angel watching me. He wanted Buffy back, who cared what happened to me. Then why did he give me that slight smile before turning his eyes back out the window?

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_Please don't forget to review! I know it sucks, but I tend to write faster the more reviews I get..._


	2. The Girl in Question Part 2

_A/N: I just finished this chapter and I love it so much, I couldn't help but post it right away.  
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The Girl in Question – Part 2

After landing in Rome, I could tell Angel thought we should go get the Capo's body straight away, but it hardly took any persuasion for him to agree to stopping by Buffy's apartment first. As we approached her door, it felt like my entire chest swelled and ached at the thought of seeing Buffy again. Not to mention other body parts.

I had always imagined that the first time I saw Buffy now that she thought I was dead, it would be during some romantic gesture. I would show up, tell her I was alive and that I loved her, and she would take me back. And Angel wouldn't be at my side, making everything confusing and complicated, making me reconsider being with her, making everything go bugger all. I mean, come on! He couldn't even have her to himself if he wanted to. Well, not have her and keep her satisfied, anyways.

I watched Angel as he knocked on Buffy's door, wondering if she would be able to tell how things between him and me had changed. Maybe if we slipped back into fighting over her, it wouldn't show. Unless our fighting became more about him and me than about either of us and Buffy. Maybe I should watch my tongue for once. Or maybe I should just tell her. Bring Angel down off that pedestal she's got him on, show her he's just as fucked up as the rest of us and he doesn't deserve her. All he deserves is me.

Someone came up to the inside of door and opened it. For a millisecond, I caught the sight of blonde hair and my hopes rose just enough to be dashed when I saw that it was Andrew holding open the door.

"Spike, _dios mio_!" the little git cried, stepping forward to hug me. I caught Angel smirking at me as I endured the hug, rolling my eyes in response.

"And Angel!" the lad said as he let me go.

"What are you doing here, Andrew?" Angel asked. God, why did I always let him take the lead?

"Oh," he leaned his face against the edge of the door as he spoke to us. "Dawn and Buffy are letting me crash. You know, since my place got burned down when that thing happened."

Catching Angel's eye, I wondered if he knew what 'that thing' was, because I certainly didn't.

"What are you guys doing here?" Andrew asked.

"Is Buffy here?" asked Angel.

"Yeah, is Buffy here?"

Andrew sighed. "I'm sorry guys, she's out. Do you want to hang? I mean, I have plans later, but…"

Angel and I looked at each other and I shrugged, "Yeah, okay."

Andrew spouted some Italian and then translated, "I part my threshold!" Getting odd looks from both me and Angel, Andrew realized how that sounded and clarified, "I mean, my apartment."

He retreated into the apartment, giving Angel and I room to enter now that we had an invitation. Angel moved to take the lead again, to go ahead of me, but I kept myself side-by-side with him as we tried to get through the doorway. There wasn't enough room for both of our shoulders to get through and we got stuck in the doorway for just a moment until Angel twisted and forced his way ahead of me.

Damn.

"So, Andrew," Angel started as we entered the room, and I stuck close to him out of habit even though we were at cross-purposes, "when did Buffy leave? Where did she go?"

"Oh," he said, flopping onto the couch. "You just missed her. She went out to meet the Immortal."

"By herself?" I asked, incredulous.

"I _said_ I was busy," the little ponce whined, grabbing a pillow and hugging it. "Besides, it was good for them to get out of the house. Most nights they just sit on the couch and cuddle." Andrew made a slight expression of disgust, sticking out his tongue.

"Cuddle? There's cuddling?" asked Angel softly, looking like a slapped puppy, his stupid feelings all hurt because Buffy was dating someone else. Wait! Buffy was dating someone else? When I found that bloke, that bloody fucking Immortal, I was going to find the most painful way of making him pay for touching our girl. _My_ girl. Fuck.

"Well, _yeah_," Andrew said before sitting up and saying, "you guys didn't know they're together?"

I looked over at Angel, the man with the spy to do his stalking, who should've picked up on this crucial bit of information, but Angel looked as shocked as I felt. "This is so much worse," I muttered, watching him nod in bewildered agreement.

* * *

"The bloody fucking Immortal," Spike cursed as we waited. We'd gone from Buffy's house to the address Gunn had given me, where a matronly looking demon with a big nose and long ears let us in. Now we were waiting in the foyer of the grand Renaissance Italian townhouse while she shuffled off into the back rooms to bring out the Capo's body. There were a few more demons hovering around, including one male demon in a butler's uniform who was dusting a table of curios on the far side of the room.

"You realize he's doing it again," Spike continued.

"What?"

"Keeping us busy with this Capo bugaboo while he boffs _our_ girl."

"Just like before," I agreed, remembering the rage and embarrassment of finding Darla tumbled by that bastard. "Wait," I shook my head and asked, "did you say _our_ girl?"

"_My_ girl, I mean," he cried, almost embarrassed that he'd given me that little bit of credit where Buffy was concerned. To break the awkward moment, he hit the table with his fist, making the candlesticks and decorative plates on the table clatter with the disturbance.

I shook off his slip-up and asked, "How could she ever fall for a centuries old guy with a dark past who may or may not be evil?" Wait. Spike and I glanced at each other, and I supposed he was realizing the same thing I was. We both fit that description to a tee.

"It's gotta be a spell," Spike pointed out, anger and frustration roughing his voice.

"That's exactly what I was thinking," I agreed. Buffy was under the effects of a love spell. It had nothing to do with the fact that the Immortal was entirely her type, if a bit short in the fang. "So we get this body and then we go find the Immortal and break his whammy."

"Aye," Spike agreed. I clasped his shoulder out of habit before realizing that the two of us were on rocky ground with this whole Buffy thing up in the air. As I let go, the female demon came back into the room, carrying what looked like a bowling ball case.

"Grazie, Signore Angelo. Grazie."

"This is the Capo di Famiglia of the Goran Demon clan?" I asked as she handed me the case.

"Si, si."

"He must've been a wee fellow," Spike commented.

I zipped open the bag, peering in. "This is only his head!" I blurted in confusion. Spike leaned over to take a look, and when his eyes met mine, I noticed how close his lips were. Okay, there was definitely something wrong with wanting to kiss him with a dead demon head between us and with Buffy still on our minds. God, if she found out about him and me…she'd be confused at best. Homicidal at worst.

"Si, Signore," the demon said. "When a Goran demon becomes heavy with the age, his head droop and fall off, like a ripe fig."

"So the new Capo will just hatch out of this thing?" I asked, showing her the head, as if she really needed to see it again.

"Si, but only if the family performs the rituals in time. You must bring the head back to Los Angeles. Subito, si?" The demon hurried me with great big gestures, urging our quick departure.

"Si!" I cried, trying to zip up the bag as we left. "Subito!"

Fifteen minutes later, we were back at Buffy's apartment, banging on the door. When Andrew answered it we both asked, "Is Buffy home yet?" I gave Spike an annoyed look at the way he kept trying to get one step ahead of me in the search for Buffy, now stealing the words right out of my mouth.

"Guys," Andrew whined, "it's only eight-thirty…"

"Right," said Spike. "Do you know where she went, then?" I scowled at Spike again. Every other case, every other moment of our lives practically, Spike let me take the lead. But not here, not with Buffy. I found I really didn't like the competition. I hated it almost as much as I hated the thought of losing him. But if Buffy was in trouble, under the effects of a love spell, we had to go find her. We had to save her, didn't we?

* * *

We found the club Andrew spoke of without too much trouble, but there were so many people there, I didn't see her right away. "Do you smell her?" I asked Angel, scenting the room, trying not to be overwhelmed by the mass of writhing human bodies. God, they smelled so good sometimes, with all that hot blood running through their veins. Fucking tempting.

"No," he replied, taking my elbow and pushing me ahead of him through the crowd. "I can't even _feel_ her here." At this point the bag containing that damn head was in my arms, held in close as we made our way up to the bar. The press of sweaty, dancing, aroused bodies was so close that Angel practically had to fit against my back so we wouldn't get separated.

"Dancing," he muttered, almost in my ear, "why did it have to be dancing?" Shrugging at his complaint, I tried to ignore his breath tickling my neck and the way he brushed against me as we walked, but it was bloody impossible. Not with all the sex in the room. Not when I could still feel a twinge or two of pain from the night before, when Angel'd seen fit to fuck me right proper. I wondered briefly if he'd let me have a quick nip of blood sometime soon, and if that nip would lead to more naked activities.

No…Buffy! … We were here to find Buffy, to save her from the Immortal and prove how much we loved her. _I _loved her. Fuck.

I hurried up to the bar, separating from Angel for a few steps. Trying to forget how much pull he had over me. "Oi!" I signaled to the woman behind the bar, "speak English, luv?" While I set the head down on the bar, Angel joined us, leaning beside me, too close, almost touching but not quite.

"Si, si," the woman replied, smiling and leaning forward so her tits were almost falling out of her low-cut top. "I love ze English."

"We're looking for a girl," Angel told her, "American, blonde hair, blue eyes."

"Green eyes," I corrected, giving Angel an incredulous look as I hit him on the arm. Leaning in, I hissed in his ear, "If you're so in love with the Slayer, mate, why don't you remember what color her eyes are?" Maybe he was forgetting about her. But no, that was a hopeless wish, that he'd ever love me more than he did her.

He pushed me away roughly, obviously upset I'd called him on his mistake and looking to the bartender for her answer.

"There are many blonde Americans. Spring break, they come here, they go _wild_, yeah?"

"No," Angel scoffed, "she's a friend of ours." Hah! Friend.

I spoke up, "Look, she's taken up with this ponce called The Immortal…"

"Ah, yes…The Immortal's new _regazza_?" the woman said, looking around. Her gaze settled on a point behind us and she nodded, "There."

Slowly and breathlessly – well, more breathless than usual – I turned, eyes seeking the point the woman had indicated. There! In the crowd, dancing with that fucking git, the Immortal, was a short blonde woman. She was dancing with her face away from us, hair flouncing in time with the bouncy music, hips swinging enticingly. Buffy!

I watched for a few seconds, but she didn't turn around. It had to be her, right? I took a few steps forward, before I remembered Angel beside me. "Right." Chagrined that Buffy had gotten me to forget about him, even momentarily and fearing if she saw him I'd be left alone again, I insisted, "You hold down the fort, I'll take care of this."

I had started down onto the dance floor before Angel scoffed and caught up to me. "Oh, no. I know what you're up to, Blondie Bear. You think you're going to swoop in there and be the big hero and try to get her back."

"Look!" I shouted at him, furious that I was even in this situation in the first place. Caught between the two of them, not wanting to hurt anyone, not wanting to be hurt. But Buffy was a dream, and Angel was my reality. Always. "I _know_ I don't have a shot with her, I probably never did," I admitted. "But I still care about her and I'm not going to let her end up with a jerk like The Immortal." As I walked away from him and back toward her, I shot over my shoulder, "Or you!"

"Hey!" he shouted, grabbing me by the shoulder to keep us in lock-step as we approached her. "Ours is a forever love." Really? Had he finally admitted how he felt about me?

"Always?" I asked, growing confused when Angel looked surprised and chagrined at my use of the word. Oh. He'd meant him and Buffy. Fuck that.

"I had a relationship with her too, you know."

Cruelly he retorted, "Sleeping together isn't a relationship, Spike."

Open mouthed, I looked back at him, stopping us in our tracks. Was that what he thought of him and me? We were just fucking? I could have sworn he loved me, though he hadn't said the words. He hadn't denied it either, on the plane. But just a second ago he'd professed his love for Buffy instead of me. What about spending every waking moment together for the past two months? What about everything he'd said, about wanting me all to himself? What about the way he'd told me more about his past than he had anyone else? What about the few times we'd made love, without the blood driving us together in a haze of lust? What about the way he trusted me? What about the faded scars all over my chest and belly that he'd said were to mark me as his? What about 'always'? Was it all bullshit? Was it all just Angel saying pretty lies and using me?

Growling, I grabbed his wrist crushingly hard, "It is if you do it enough times." A look of realization passed through Angel's eyes, and then he got that expression he has when he's mad I've proved him wrong. Angel hates having to eat his words, though it looked like he was about to. Maybe it wasn't all lies. Maybe it was just being in the same town as Buffy, the woman we both loved getting between us.

The stare of rage and hurt lingered between us, Angel opening and closing his mouth as if he were trying to find the words to mollify me. But then, Angel's eyes grew wide. "Spike! Where's the head?"

Looking down at his hands and mine, I said, "I thought you had it."

As we turned back for the bar, Angel yelled, "Geez, Spike. I give you one job…"

"Hey," I countered, actually relieved we were back into a normal rhythm of bickering, "you were there, too!"

Then, Angel stopped me with a hand on my chest, and I followed his gaze up to the bar where a little demon butler, the one we'd seen when picking up the head from its caretakers, was taking the bag from the bar.

"Hey!" I yelled as loud as I could while Angel and I pushed our way through the crowd. I caught up with the demon first, grabbing him and asking, "Where you goin' with our head, Jeeves?"

Behind me, a deep male voice said, "Anywhere he wants." Looking around, I noticed we were surrounded by five or six burly looking Italians, all with shaved heads and poncy little moustaches. One sucker-punched Angel right in the mouth before either of us could put up our defenses.

How dare that wanker attack _my _Angel! I jumped the guy, slamming his head into the laminated floor, not really caring whether I killed him or not, though I was leaning toward killing. But I'd probably regret it afterwards, so I let him be once he was unconscious. As I got up, Angel threw one of the blokes into the bar so his body crashed through a stack of glasses and spent beer bottles.

The next few seconds were a blur of kicks and punches as Angel and I beat down the entire group. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone moving and threw another punch, realizing just too late that my fist was about to collide with Angel's face. Oh, bugger.

My eyes widened as I saw Angel draw back his arm, sending his fist back at me, punching me squarely in the jaw. That fucker! We weren't even in the bedroom. Angry about what he'd said and about him hitting me, I punched Angel a second time, just as he hit me in the nose.

"Spike!" the git yelled as I grabbed my face in pain. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I got confused! It's very loud in here!" I grabbed Angel by the hand, only realizing after he accepted my offer that I was still angry about what he'd said. Oh well. "C'mon, he's gettin' away!"

We raced out into the street hand-in-hand, only to find it empty. "Where'd he go?" yelled Angel, whipping around to search for the bloody demon that stole the head.

Then, a rumbling noise approached us from around the bend and a car barreled toward us at full speed, just barely giving us time to jump out of the way.

"That's our car!" yelled Angel. "He stole our car!"

Recovering, I noticed a Vespa with its keys still in the ignition parked outside the club. Starting it, I rode up to Angel, saying "Hop on, little mama."

"I'm not riding in the back!"

"Why not? Just get on, he's getting away!"

Grumbling, Angel sat down behind me, wrapping his arms around my chest as I accelerated after the thief. Though we were still fighting, I was glad to have his arms around me again. Part of me hoped we wouldn't actually talk to Buffy, because maybe then things could go back to normal between me and Angel. Whatever normal was.

Chasing the demon's car as best I could, it seemed like an impossible task to catch up to it. In my ear, Angel huffed, "You should have let me drive."

"You always drive, Peaches," I shouted back to him. "Let you drive last night, didn't I?"

When Angel caught my meaning, he actually gave an embarrassed little laugh and I smiled. He should know how I feel about him. He should just know it, the bastard. But Angel was clueless as always, so I opened my mouth to tell him. Because I wasn't going to let him go back to Buffy without a fight. But then, before I could say anything, Angel tugged on my arm and shouted in my ear, "There, a shortcut."

"Yeah, okay," I replied, turning and piloting the Vespa down a narrow alleyway that was straight compared to the winding street the car had to take. We shot out of the alley ahead of the car, but instead of stopping, the bloody demon stepped on the gas and tried to run us over. Angel just barely pulled me out of the way in time to avoid being hit, throwing us to the side so he landed on me. The Vespa was smashed to pieces instead, raining down on us as the car squealed away.

"You alright?" Angel asked, his face right above mine, such a familiar sight, reminiscent of more pleasant times. His stupid lips made me want to kiss him, and before I knew what I was doing, I'd pressed my lips to his. He only endured a short peck before pulling back.

"Angel, I…" Here I was ready to pour my heart out to him, but Angel was already getting up, helping me to my feet, eyes on the retreating headlights of our car. "Yeah, I'm alright. Physically," I grunted as I stood, catching his eye to let him know I was still angry. "How are we going to get that head back?"

"If we were in LA," he replied, "we'd already be two steps ahead of that bastard."

"Yeah, if we had our helicopters and proper cars," I agreed.

"Yeah," Angel said, reaching for my hand as we walked back through the street, and I let him catch hold of me despite my hurt feelings. He wouldn't apologize, he wouldn't say he loved me, but this was something at least.

"Hang on," I said, stopping so Angel ended up jerking on my arm before turning around to look at me.

"What now?"

"Doesn't Wolfram and Hart have an office here in Rome?"

* * *

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Reviews, please?_


	3. The Girl in Question Part 3

_A/N: I was rewatching the episode to get some dialogue (okay, the majority of the dialogue) for the next few parts and I realized one of the big reasons I love this episode so much. The amount of nonverbal communication between Angel and Spike is enormous! You can tell they know each other really well, even if they dislike each other much more than in my rewrite. There also seems to be more of it at the end of the episode than at the beginning, hinting that they've come to some sort of non-explicit understanding of what they mean to each other now that they're working together._

_It's really late right now, as I'm posting this, so please forgive any errors._

_Enjoy!_

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* * *

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The Girl in Question – Part 3

Spike and I rode up in the elevator from the ground floor of the Roman Wolfram and Hart headquarters to the top floor, where the CEO's office was located. The security men down in the lobby had said she was waiting for us. Did this freaking company always know where I was and what I was up to?

Watching Spike out of the corner of my eye, I knew I'd gone and said something incredibly stupid back in the club. Especially given the way Spike reacted to my words. Sleeping together wasn't always a relationship, but what he and I had was much more than fucking. Wasn't it? He seemed to think it was, that we were in a relationship, even though we hadn't really talked about it in a long time. And I had to admit, I thought the same, even though I couldn't say the words out loud. Instead, I kept trying to tell him how much he meant to me without actually saying the words. I kept trying to let him know how much I loved him.

And Spike was _mine,_ damn it! He'd said he was mine, always. He'd promised. Yet, that brokenhearted look in his eyes back at the club, when I didn't recognize what he meant when he said, "Always," had me nervous. Spike was so sensitive sometimes; I doubted it would take much to make him want to leave me for Buffy. No, it wouldn't take much at all.

Trying once again, I caught his fingers in mine, giving them a squeeze. When he looked up at me, I gave him a slight smile and said, "This was a good idea, precious."

"Sod off," Spike replied, but he didn't pull his hand away from mine until the elevator doors were opening.

My mouth fell open in surprise as we stepped into the lobby of the floor, looking the whole place over. It appeared exactly like our branch offices in LA, save for a few minor differences, like how several employees were smoking indoors. Over there were the steps leading up to the lab and the medical suite. At the sight, I briefly hoped Fred was getting along okay without either Spike or me there. She was still so fragile.

Under the stairs were offices just like Gunn's and Wesley's, and across the lobby from them, a room that looked just like my office, complete with a replica of Harmony's desk. Before I could turn to Spike to comment on how alike everything was, a woman called out, "Ciao! Benvenuto! Welcome!"

Coming toward us was a buxom woman with long dark black hair, olive-tinted skin, and huge rings on her fingers. Her low-cut dress seemed more like club wear than a business outfit, but when in Rome…

"Spike!" she exclaimed as she reached us, drawing my partner against her so she could kiss his cheeks. "Look at you! You are so handsome you take my breath away! I have no breath!"

"Uh, thanks?" Spike murmured.

"And it is such an honor!" she said, embracing me. "The great Angelus!"

"Actually," I said, relieved when she finally let me go, "it's just Angel now."

"Oh, that's right! The gypsies, they gave you your soul! They are a filthy people," she declared, spitting off to the side in disgust, "and we shall speak of them no more!" The woman smiled again and finally introduced herself, "I am Ilona Costa Bianchi, CEO of the Roman branch of Wolfram e Hart. We are here to give you anything you want. You want the world, we give you the world! Come, come, let us go into my office and we shall speak like adults, eh?" With that, she turned on her heel, spouting off a stream of Italian, giving her assistant orders to bring us refreshments. I hoped he wouldn't bring human blood because I really didn't want to see this woman's reaction when I turned it down.

"She seems nice," Spike murmured to me as we followed the woman into her office. I nodded and let my hand brush his as we walked. I was going to have to do it, wasn't I? Before we saw Buffy, I was going to have to tell him how I felt. It was the only chance I had of maybe keeping him with me. Because as much as I loved Buffy, I couldn't just_ let_ her have him. No, Spike was _mine_. Always.

We stood in Ilona's office, which was richly decorated with paintings and antique furniture. The couch actually had a picture of a nude woman embroidered on the upholstery, which left me and Spike standing to face Ilona as we talked, unwilling to sit down. To make us more comfortable, the woman stood as well, asking with big hand gestures, "What are your problems? Now you are here, you have no problems!"

Saying the problem that was most on my mind, I told her, "We have this friend, Buffy, who's been tricked into dating the Immortal."

"We think he slipped her a love potion," Spike added.

"No, no, no! The Immortal does not use magic! He considers it dirty, like gypsies!" She spit in disgust again. "Let us speak of them no more!"

"But," I said, "he had to have done something. No way Buffy fell for him on her own."

"Ah, but I think you underestimate the Immortal's appeal, Angel. He is never wanting for the company, si?"

"The bloody Immortal is the biggest pain in our ass this side of Mount Everest," Spike told her. Then softly, he added, "Which I'm told he has climbed…several times."

Maybe Buffy _was_ dating him of her own free will. That bastard had always had the ladies wrapped around his little finger. Oh, look at the Immortal! Look how strong and brave and handsome and accomplished he is! Spike and I shared a look and I tried to tell him not to worry. I didn't think the Immortal was appealing, in any sense of the world. Spike nodded in reply, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Don't you have some sort of Italian Wesley?" I asked, stepping closer to intimidate her. "We need to find out everything we can about this bastard, the Immortal."

"We do, yes. But he is taking a nap!" she replied, bending back to keep looking at my face. "And I do not need him to tell you what is widely known," she continued as I backed off, standing next to Spike again. "The Immortal _does not use magic_. Now, you need to keep your head, eh?" Ilona chuckled as Spike and I shared a surprised look. "Yes, I know all about your mission to retrieve the Capo de Famiglia of the Goran demon clan! And I have to say, getting the remains back to Los Angeles seems a little more important than trying to pry your friend off the Immortal."

"Right," I grudgingly agreed.

"There has already been a ransom note," she said, reaching back to take it from her assistant. "It was addressed to you via our offices. I took the liberty of sneaking a peek. I figured you would not mind!" She handed me the paper, a fairly standard ransom note.

"Okay," I said, a plan formulating in my head. "We're gonna need tactical teams and a chase helicopter."

"And guns," Spike added. "Lots and lots of guns."

"No, no, no, no!" Ilona replied, approaching us and squeezing one of our faces in each hand briefly. "I love you to so much, but you cannot do this!"

"Why not?" Spike asked, stretching out his jaw and making a face to shake off the insult of Ilona's grab.

"This is a civilized country!" she insisted. "We do this all the time! Somebody gets kidnapped, somebody pays the money, everyone goes home happy! Grazie, prego, kiss, kiss! Look," she said, pointing back to her assistant again, "we have the money all ready."

I looked to Spike for his opinion and he scoffed at me with a shrug. "Fine," I agreed, turning back to Ilona. "We'll do it your way."

Sighing, Spike asked, "Who's makin' the drop, then?"

* * *

Angel and I stood in the meeting place where the drop was going to happen, a plaza courtyard in the street, and I was trying valiantly to keep myself off him. I either wanted to kill him, or I wanted to pin him down so I could tell him how much I loved him and then shag him into oblivion.

Angel broke the silence first, saying, "I said something stupid earlier."

"You say a lot of stupid things," I scoffed, trying not to give in to the desire to look into his face, to press myself against him. To forgive him for what he said and tell him how I felt and let him break my heart into jagged pieces with all that ammunition.

"About us," he clarified. "What we have…"

After a few seconds of prolonged silence, I said, "Pat, I'd like to buy a vowel."

Angel flashed me an angry and confused look. Of course he would have no idea what I was talking about. "I was trying to say," he glared, "that we're more than that."

"More than what?"

"More than just sleeping together," he insisted. "We're more than friends, Spike. I…care about you."

"You fucking git!" I yelled, suddenly so overwhelmed that I didn't know which way was up. "I'm trying to be mad at you, for chrissakes! And here you go, skirting around that damn bloody word, trying to make me feel better when we both know you're just going to leave me for her."

"I wouldn't," he insisted, "even if I could. But you would! You'd leave me in a second if she asked you to. You made me a promise, Spike! You're the one who said 'always' first. It wasn't me!"

"Well, maybe now I'm regrettin' it, luv," I fumed, furious that he didn't give me even a little bit of credit. It was all about Buffy, all of this. And we hadn't even seen her yet. "Not like it matters," I added, "since Buffy's with the bloody captain of the universe, The fuckin' Immortal."

"It matters," he growled as a car pulled up. "Whatever the circumstances, it matters."

A second and third car followed the first and the demon butler emerged, along with his gang of mustachioed losers. "You must be so lonely," he said in his exaggerated Italian accent. "Your girlfriend has become lovers with the Immortal." Oh, I just wanted to kick his teeth in for rubbing salt in the wound, especially when he continued, saying, "Your friend is very lucky, to be honored by His Grace," the butler said, approaching us with the Capo's head in that same bowling ball case.

"You know the Immortal?" Angel asked, obviously still fuming from our fight.

"But of course," the demon replied with a deferential gesture.

"Ha! I knew it!" Angel exclaimed.

"Been his plan all along," I agreed. "Steal our head, have us traipse all over the world after it while he steals our girl." Fuck. "_My_ girl." Angel gave me another angry look, but he didn't let it last very long.

"It's been a set up all along," Angel continued, sneering at the demon. "_You're_ just his _lackey_."

"I should be so lucky," the demon confessed, "but The Immortal does not need men like me to do his business. He is a wild card. A wolf removed from the pack. A stallion without the bridle."

"What? Are you in love with him?" I asked.

"No, no. No," the demon insisted. "Well, yeah. Okay, yes. But if anything, it is as an inspiration. A spiritual guide. Have you read his book? Is life-changing!"

"Yeah, alright," Angel fumed, "can we just get on with this?"

"Do Americans even read?" the demon asked the man at his side, and I saw the way Angel's lips pursed and his jaw clenched.

Turning to me, Angel gave me a look that said 'violence' and I nodded in agreement. In unison, we attacked the gang, taking out the bigger guys first. I wondered if maybe Angel would be upset if I killed one or two of them on accident. They deserved it really, with those stupid moustaches and bald heads and allegiance to the Immortal. But though fighting was just as fun, killing didn't hold the same amusement factor now that I had my soul. It didn't make me feel better or comforted like it used to, and I almost missed that. But it was the same way I almost missed Dru. Remembering only the good things and forgetting how awful the reality would be. Was I remembering Buffy the same way?

Angel and I fought together perfectly, slipping back into rhythms neither of us had used in over a century. At least not until recently, in the past few weeks. And that was comforting at least. As much as I hated him for trying to make me think he cared, I loved him for that comfort, that familiarity, that way we were more kick-ass together than apart.

Before we got too many of them down and out, the demon threw the bag over our heads to the goons on the other side of us. The head got thrown a few more times over our heads as we chased it, before the butler caught it, aiming a gun at the bag and saying, "Uh, uh, uh. No more games!"

Angel, with brilliant timing, threw a fist up over his shoulder, catching a guy square in the face, while keeping his eyes on the demon, who said, "One more move and the head gets it, eh?"

We both backed off, but I know I was still itching for a fight, and it felt like Angel was right there with me. We faced apart from one another, but Angel let his shoulder touch mine, letting me know that he was there, that he had my back, at least until this threat was gone. Then, we might get into a fist fight of our own.

"We are not animals," the demon continued. "We are Italiano!" He waited as his goons straightened themselves out a bit before he said, "You give us the money, we give you the head."

Angel and I shared a look over our shoulders, and his eyes were full of contempt for this demon, for the whole bloody situation.

"You give us the money," the butler repeated, "we give you the head. The money, the head," he almost sang, pointing to each in succession with the barrel of his gun. "The money, the head. Money –"

"Yeah, we get it," Angel snarled, hitting me lightly with the back of his hand. "Get the money," he ordered and I grudgingly agreed.

Wondering how much that head was really worth to everyone, I got the inexplicable urge to bash the demon butler's head in with the money briefcase and let everyone find out. Instead, I carefully made the exchange with the demon, almost sighing in relief when he handed over the bag without any tricks.

With the money in hand, the butler stepped back, saying, "Arrivederci, Americanos. It has been a pleasure doing business with you."

I held the head safe in my arms, watching the git and his poncy friends as they left. Soon, Angel and I were fairly alone in the plaza, left to deal only with each other.

"Don't believe him for a second," I told Angel. "The Immortal is neck deep in all of this. Every time I hear his name I either lose my girl, get thrown in jail for tax evasion." At a curious look from Angel, I said, "Long story. Or get stuck standing in the strada –"

"You know what 'strada' means?" Angel asked, looking annoyed.

"It means _street_," I told him, matching his annoyance with my own.

"Yeah, I know what it means," he snarled.

"Stuck in the strada," I continued, unzipping the bag, "holding a…" There in my hands, with a bright red digital countdown timer, was a, "…bomb?"

"Shit!" Angel cried, grabbing it from my hands and throwing it away just as it went off in our faces. I briefly remember being thrown back by the blast, but then everything went dark.

* * *

Ears ringing, I gained my bearings as I came to and took a look around, glad I wasn't dust. Expecting the great lout to have landed at my side, I started panicking when I didn't see him anywhere around me. Where was he? I felt the loss of him in the clenching of my throat and the impotent fisting of my hands, heavy with the thought that he could be gone. Angel wasn't supposed to die. He was always supposed to be there, a constant bloody pain in my ass. Always. Sire, in practice if not in truth. No, he couldn't be gone! Not while I was still here.

"Angel?" I yelled, standing up and turning around. If he had dusted, wouldn't I feel it in my blood? In my bones? In his absence from that place in my mind and heart that had been growing since we'd started sharing blood, sharing ourselves? Wouldn't I know? "Angel!"

I heard a muffled voice behind me as a large hand clamped on my shoulder, turning me to face him. My hearing and sense of smell were still recovering, but drawn against him with strong hands, I knew Angel's arms and chest and shoulders even before I looked up into his face, relieved beyond belief. "Where'd you get blown to, you soddin' git?" I said, fingering a small cut on his cheek.

"What?" Angel replied at a yell, obviously still deafened by the blast. Instead of replying, I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss, trying to tell him how thrilled I was he wasn't any deader. Angel returned my kiss fervently; I supposed trying to get me to forgive him. Or maybe he'd been as scared to death as I was. We clung to each other for what felt like forever, kissing heatedly and holding to each other tightly. Angel finally called it quits just before I was going to find something to throw him against, either a wall or the ground, so I could press myself even closer to him.

As we parted, I mumbled, "Didn't want to lose you, Angel, my love." Couldn't help saying it, and though he smiled and nodded, there was no indication he'd actually understood my words, still deafened by the blast. Good, that was good. Wasn't it?

"Are you okay?" he asked, running his hands down my arms, fingering the tattered ends of my jacket sleeves. Wait, what?

"Agh!" I yelled pulling myself away from Angel and taking off my duster to get a better look at it. The sleeves and most of the front had taken the brunt of the blast, torn into tatters of black leather. The back was relatively unmarred, a few gaping holes here and there, but the coat was definitely ruined.

"What?" he asked, his voice starting to return to a normal volume.

"My jacket's ruined!"

"After everything we've been through, you're pissed about a jacket? It's just a coat, Spike," he replied.

"It's not just a coat, Angel! I've been wearing this for thirty years! It's like a part of me."

"The part you stripped off the body of a dead slayer?"

"Well, which gives it sentimental value."

"Get over it, huh?" he said with a sigh. "I'll buy you a new one."

"Even so," I replied, wary of the look in his eyes, not sure I knew exactly what it meant. "It's my second skin. It's who I am! It's just one more thing that he's taken away that I'll never get back!"

Angel nodded wearily and led the way back to our car, which had hopefully been spared from the blast.

"I hate this city," I told him, wrapping up the carcass of my jacket in my arms, holding it to my chest like a fallen comrade.

"I know what you mean," he replied gently, letting his hand rest at the back of my neck, comfort exactly where I needed it.

The Immortal had taken our head and our girl and I wondered how long before he managed to cause so much strife between me and Angel that he'd take the one good thing I had left. No. I wasn't going to let that happen.

"Angel?" I asked as we reached the car.

"Yeah, Spike?"

"I don't want to take back my promise."

"No?" he asked, catching a breath as he caught my eyes over the car's roof.

"No," I nodded. "As long as you want me." I ducked down into the car, looking away as Angel slid into the driver's seat beside me.

"Always," he whispered, starting up the car and driving us away from our failed ransom exchange. I wasn't sure this was going to work, not yet, but Angel seemed to…care enough about me to give it a try, anyways. To make promises I was sure he couldn't keep. Not if Buffy was around. But it was kind of him to try.

* * *

  
_Thanks for reading! And please remember to review!_


	4. The Girl in Question Part 4

The Girl in Question – Part 4

When we showed up at Wolfram and Hart, looking battered and beaten, Ilona met us again. "What happened?" she asked. "No grazie, prego, kiss, kiss?"

"More like grazie, prego, kaboom," I told her, letting her know with a look that I wasn't at all amused that she'd sent us into a situation that got us blown up.

"Oh, do not worry, Angel," she said with a chuckle. "They are always doing this to first timers in this country! We will figure out how to get your head back to you. But in the mean time," she said, putting a hand on my arm and holding me out so she could look at me, "we need to get you some new clothes! Eh?"

* * *

"Oh, look at you!" Ilona exclaimed when I came back into her office wearing the clothes and the motorcycle jacket she'd picked out for me. It was gaudy and didn't move well, and the neck was too tight. Spike was laughing at me under his breath beside her, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to join him in the joke or kick his ass.

"It's not really me," I told her, trying not to show how uncomfortable I was, but the tilt of Spike's smile said I was failing.

"But it's just the style!" the woman said, reaching out to lay an approving hand on my arm. "You will be the definition of handsome for years!"

As I joined them, I unsnapped the collar and zipped down the jacket, enjoying the new freedom of movement. Reaching toward Spike, I fingered the lapel of his jacket, saying, "This looks just like the old one."

"It'll do," he shrugged and I could feel him struggling not to lean into me. Spike wanted me, wanted to be with me. He'd said he wouldn't go back on his promise and I wondered just how well his conviction would hold up if Buffy asked him to break it. Especially if his feelings for me were just a default option, so he wouldn't end up alone.

"Smells better, that's for sure," I smirked, about to run my hand up to his shoulder before I realized Ilona was still there, watching us. It used to be easier to avoid touching him in public, before I realized I loved him, no matter how he felt about me. Spike raised an eyebrow, and I took my hand away, shoving it into my pocket for safety's sake. Who knows? Maybe Buffy would be so infatuated with the Immortal that she wouldn't want Spike back and I could just take him home. And then maybe things would return to normal and we could ignore how he was only with me for lack of other options.

"Don't you two look quite the couple?" said Ilona, with a knowing smile.

"Couple?" asked Spike. "What, him and me? No way, luv. You gone round the bend?" He hated denying we were together, and I wondered if there wasn't just a little too much vehemence in his denial.

"Yeah," I agreed, giving him a careful look. "We pretty much hate each other. He almost killed me a few months ago."

"And," Spike added, "this is the wanker that kept stealin' my girl from me for all those years."

"Hey," I pointed out. "Dru was mine first."

"But you had Darla, and then _Buffy_."

"Boys, boys! Why do you argue? This is not an occasion for argument!"

"What do you mean?" I asked her. "We've lost the head, we can't seem to find Buffy, and now for some inexplicable reason you think I'm with this moron?"

"You were not copied on the memo?"

"What memo?"

"The company-wide memo that was sent out to all the branch leads. When was it, eh? Ah...six weeks ago. Yes, that was it. It says Angel, Mr. CEO in Los Angeles, has a seer and a lover named Spike. I did not expect him to be so handsome, Angel."

"There was a memo about my love life?" I asked, my voice cracking in indignation. The Senior Partners had known about us for the last _six weeks_?

"_Si, Signore_ Angel. It is a fairly standard practice, you know, keeping the branch CEOs updated on major changes in each other's lives. It makes the holiday parties much less awkward, _si_?"

"How come I never knew about this memo? How did they even find out in the first place?" Was this whole thing with the Immortal and Buffy a plot to break us up? The Senior Partners were quite fond of taking away anyone and everyone who meant a damn to me. They wanted me as cruel and evil and heartless as Angelus. What better way to break me than to make sure I fell in love, and then just take that away from me?

"Well, that part wasn't in the notice, but if I had to guess … Yes, I would guess the psychics employed by Wolfram e Hart had something to do with revealing your secret," she chuckled. "It is quite difficult to hide things from those who see all, no?"

"Fuck," I replied, looking to Spike and trying to gauge his reaction. The idiot looked almost relieved. He'd always hated hiding our relationship. Maybe it reminded him too much of how he'd let Buffy use him. And why hadn't the Partners just let Buffy know Spike was alive again? That would have done the job. Maybe they wanted her to see him alive with her own eyes. Maybe they were the ones that killed the Capo in the first place, to lure me into sending Spike here.

And the Immortal kept getting in the way – keeping Buffy out of the house, having his goons steal the head, blowing us up. All so she wouldn't see Spike and decide she wanted him back. Damn, he was good. I wasn't giving him too much credit, was I? No, he was actually that fucking sly. I wasn't sure whether I still wanted to kill The Immortal for touching our girl, or if I wanted to send him a grateful fruit basket for keeping her away from my…what? Lover? That didn't sound quite right for what Spike meant to me. Boyfriend? No, that was even worse. Friend? No. Fuck-buddy? Not really. Grand-progeny? Partner? Pain-in-the-ass? Significant Other? Anchor?

Soul mate?

Well, whatever he was, Spike was mine. Always.

"Do not fret so, Angel," Ilona said with another bright smile. "I would guess the senior partners find Spike very interesting. A vampire with a soul who sees the future? Who has a connection to the Powers that Be? _Magnifico_!"

"Uh," stammered Spike, "thanks, luv. I think."

Shaking my head, I changed the subject, "How are we going to get that head back? If we have to deal with a demon war in LA, it could be costly."

"Do not worry about it!" Ilana said, directing me by the arm from her office. "We will take care of this for you. We will make sure that the Capo's remains arrive in Los Angeles in plenty of time! Relax and go home, it is already done!"

Still confused and upset that Wolfram and Hart had found out what Spike meant to me, I let her usher both of us from the office before I knew what was going on. Once the two of us were clear of the doors, she shut them and locked them. "Hey! This is our problem!" I yelled through the door, feeling slighted and unappreciated. "We don't need your help!"

"Oh, give it up, luv," Spike said, grabbing my hand and pulling at me. "Can you just, for once in your poncy life, let it go?"

"What do you think we should do instead?"

"Let the bint take care of it. She seems capable enough. And a bit scary," he admitted, a slight wry tilt to his brow.

Sighing, I saw that under the humor Spike looked almost as weary as I felt. "Should we just go home?" I asked.

"Probably," he nodded, waiting for me to move toward the elevators before he followed. "But I'd like to talk to Andrew once more. Just to make sure Buffy's alright."

"Fine," I sighed, trying to disguise my desire to see Buffy and my fear that we would find her. Hopefully without The Immortal Bastard there to gloat. "I suppose going back there once more won't kill us." Though Buffy might, if she found out we were together.

"Plus," he smirked as we boarded the elevator, "Andrew needs a bit of a talking to about what happened with Illyria."

"Because he wouldn't help us by calling Willow?"

"Aye, luv," Spike nodded, catching my hand and letting his side touch mine from shoulder to knee, leaning against me as if to apologize for everything.

* * *

Andrew answered the door at Buffy's apartment again, showing us in. "Hey, guys. She's still not here." He was fresh from a shower, clothed in a heavy bathrobe and hair still dripping wet.

"Damn," said Spike under his breath, pushing his way in. I followed closely, suddenly wishing that she _was_ here. Because my heart broke at the thought of never seeing Buffy's beautiful face again. And being in the same city without seeing her seemed like a fucking missed opportunity. Even if everything would go to shit afterwards.

"So, Andrew," Spike started, giving the little guy a cold look. Andrew leaned with one arm on the back of a chair and nodded pleasantly. "Did you think I'd forgotten about how you refused to help us?"

"Well, yeah," he looked down sheepishly, "I was hoping you had."

"If Buffy wasn't in town," he growled, "I'd wring your scrawny little neck."

"Ah," Andrew chuckled nervously. "Angel? A little help? I mean, I was just following orders. Seriously."

"Lay off the squirt, Spike," I sighed, catching the back of his neck in my hand. Spike generally pretends to hate authority, mine especially, but this subtle dominance from me calms him and makes him feel safe. I suppose it makes him feel loved.

"Aye," he murmured, leaning back against my hand for a brief moment before stepping away. "Hey, Andrew," Spike asked, more pleasantly this time, "has Buffy been acting…off?"

"Good question," Andrew replied, and the way his eyes flashed back and forth between us vampires told me he'd recognized a shift in our behavior since earlier. After shaking his head and looking at the ceiling for a moment, he replied happily, "No." He left the main room, presumably to continue getting ready.

"Is it some sort of mind control?" I asked, loud enough that Andrew could hear me.

"Or a love potion?" Spike added. "Did she drink a love potion?"

"No! I don't think so," was Andrew's confident answer from the other room.

It finally hit me – Buffy was with _The Immortal_. She saw fit to put my arch-nemesis in the same category as me, or even Spike. God, did that mean she loved him? It was really over between her and me, wasn't it? I'd been waiting for her for five years, and now it was really over. Never happening, forever-love or not. As the realization hit me, I snapped, "But I was waitin' patiently because Buffy says she's not done baking! Because that's the drill. So I'm sitting here, waiting, while the Immortal's eatin' cookie dough!"

"That's all you're doin', Peaches?" Spike asked quietly, giving me the same hurt look he'd been sporting all day. "Waitin'? What happened to 'always', you bastard?" The pain had morphed into anger, and I can't say I blamed him. I hadn't meant it. I'd just been surprised.

"Spike?" called Andrew. "Is Angel crying?"

"No!" Spike replied, as if insulted for me. Then he turned an angry fist toward me and called, "Not yet!"

Sighing, I stood up and approached him, hands up in surrender, which Spike seemed to accept as he lowered his fist. Carefully drawing him close by the waist and burying my nose in the crook of his neck, I whispered, "Always, always."

I inhaled deeply, trying to shut out the surrounding smell of Buffy by losing myself in him, in his scent. Remembering the taste of his blood and the feel of his body and the way I loved him. I'd been fighting for years to get my humanity back, so I could be with Buffy, so I could give her everything she deserved. But she_ wasn't_ waiting for me, and my world shifted when I realized this. I would always love her. But maybe I wouldn't wait anymore. Not when Spike was right here for me, with me every day, making me feel loved and content. Making me feel like I was home whenever we were in each other's arms. I smelled like him and he smelled like me and it was the two of us against the world, together. "Sorry I got confused."

"Been confused all day, haven't you, pet?" he replied, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and leaning his head against mine.

I laughed. "Yeah, I really have. You?"

"Aye, luv. Outta my mind."

"You guys," Andrew called from the other room, and I realized I'd forgotten about him. I gave Spike one last hug before pulling back as Andrew continued, "Buffy found the Immortal on her own. But don't worry. He's cool and everything, but he's not all that. He has his flaws."

"Really?" asked Spike, looking genuinely surprised and a little doubtful. "What are they?"

"Buffy loves both of you, but she's got to live her life. You might just catch her one day. Well, one of you, anyways," he said and Spike and I looked at each other. Did we even want her? Okay, fine. We did. Andrew continued, "But that won't happen if you're running in place. She's moved on." It probably wouldn't happen at all. The boy came back into the room, dressed up in a tux, his hair slicked back. "People change," he concluded. "You should try it sometime."

"Move on?" Spike asked Andrew, but I saw his eyes flash to meet mine, a glimmer of understanding and hope.

"Yeah, duh," Andrew replied, his debonair manner disappearing with two words as he passed us to answer a knock at the door. Two beautiful young women were out in the hallway, dressed just as elegantly as Andrew and he greeted them easily. Turning back to us, Andrew said, "Ciao!" and left, shutting the door behind him.

"We should get out of here," I said, putting my arm around Spike's shoulders and walking us toward the door.

"Don't wanna shag on Buffy's bed in revenge for her dating The Immortal?"

"No!" I cried, hitting him upside the head. I was torn between disgust and amusement, "I really don't!"

Spike shrugged, following me from the apartment, "Your loss."

* * *

_A/N: I have a harder time getting into Angel's head than into Spike's, so this chapter was a little challenging, emotionally. I hope it turned out well and made sense. What do you think?_


	5. The Girl in Question Part 5

_A/N: I'm putting up chapters as I get them done on this long weekend. And, I've actually got the next three chapters pretty much done (a few final revisions to go), so once those are up, expect a rapid drop-off in chapter frequency._

_I've actually been working on this to the exclusion of my other stories, so I'm sorry if you're waiting for an update on The Brothers in the House or The Prizefighter. It's gonna be awhile._

_Thanks again to everyone who reviews consistently. I hope this chap is up to your standards (I have an inkling it is ;P)_

_Enjoy...  
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The Girl in Question – Part 5

We barely spoke for the first hour or two on the way home, though Angel did take my hand in his after a while, letting his fingers and palm brush back and forth against mine. It was nice, the comfort of blood family and the way he made those touches almost as arousing as kisses. I guess he was trying to get used to the idea that I was just about all he had left. Maybe getting used to the fact that he loved me.

After an hour or so under his touch, trying and failing to avoid getting turned on. I leaned over toward him and whispered in his ear, "Wanna join the mile-high club, pet?"

"What's that?"

"Bloody hell, Angel," I smirked, "you really should join the twenty-first century. It's not that different, I promise. People are still bastards. Case in point," I nodded to indicate him.

Angel scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning away from me, but keeping his hand in mine. This whole thing, almost seeing Buffy, but never quite getting there, had us both prickling and prone to taking offense. I looked out the window, trying to hide my smile when he said quietly, "At least my partner is just as much of a bastard as I am."

"Not quite," I replied, pleased when he chuckled a little.

We sat in silence for a few minutes until Angel whispered, "I'm glad you're here."

Sighing, I turned back when he pulled on my chin, meeting his eyes. And then he kissed me gently, the scent of love pouring from his skin, letting me know how he felt without actually saying the words.

"You know," I said, "I'm kinda relieved we never got to see Buffy."

"Why?" he asked, like there was no fucking way he believed me.

"Because if we had, things between us would be even worse," I explained, looking away from him. I hate putting myself out there like that, but sometimes the ponce needs to hear something out loud before he'll believe it. And no matter what, he would need to hear me say I loved him out loud before he would believe that either.

During the long moment of silence that followed, I almost got up to leave him be and sit in the back of the plane somewhere, but then I looked up and his eyes softened. "Wow," he breathed. "I would not have expected that from you."

"What?"

"That you'd rather keep things going between us than get a chance to see her."

"I still love her," I told him, "if that's what you're askin'. But her and me, we're through. 'Twas only a moment really, when she was in a bad place, and I let her use me. Doesn't mean she ever loved me back." Putting my hand on his thigh, I said, "Least with you…" I let the suggestion hang in the air and Angel nodded, perhaps saying he did love me back. Because I couldn't quite say the words yet, not when he was sure to hear them, I continued by saying, "At least with you, I can be the monster she never wanted to see in me. She only ever treated me like a man, after I got my soul. And before then, she only ever treated me as a soulless _thing_. Someone who was just as fucked up and empty as she felt on the inside."

Angel sighed, like he always does when Buffy is mentioned. "We really are caught between one and the other, aren't we?" he asked, putting his hand over mine.

"Aye, pet," I said carefully. "You're not wishing we would have stayed, are you? 'Cause I have to tell you, I've had more than I can take of this back and forth, 'who does the Slayer love best?' bullshit."

"She loved _me_," he muttered, like he was trying to convince himself more than me.

"She loved you five years ago, Peaches. I..." I wanted to say it, I really did. But I couldn't. I'd never had trouble telling Drucilla how much I loved her, or Buffy, for that matter, but I suppose that's before I got my soul back. Now that I remembered how crushing that rejection felt, how utterly destroying unrequited love felt with a soul in your chest, I couldn't quite do it. "I'm yours now. Right?"

Putting a flat hand on my chest, over my heart where he'd first marked me, he nodded. "If I haven't fucked it up?"

"Not quite, luv," I smiled in relief, taking his hand from my chest and holding it in mine. I would get there. I would be able to tell him at some point. Though it'd be a lot easier if he would man up and say it first.

Angel nodded, almost shyly before he leaned forward to kiss my lips gently, cautiously. I wanted so much more.

"So," Angel said as he pulled back, keeping his hand in mine reassuringly, "what is this mile-high club you were talking about?"

Chuckling, I leaned in and whispered in his ear, "It's when you have a go in the airplane bathroom, luv."

"A go?"

"You fuck, Angel. Since the plane's way up in the air..."

"I'm pretty sure we're more than a mile high," he pointed out, giving me that sexy smirk he's got. The one that says, "You're mine and I'm going to do whatever the fuck I please to you." I hope that's what it meant, at least.

"Quit being such a git. Do you want to, or not?"

"Shouldn't," he said, nodding his chin toward the cockpit and lowering his voice. "Until I get a copy of this memo that got sent around."

"But kissing's okay?"

"No tongue," Angel insisted with a smile, leaning in to kiss me again**.  
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When we got back to the office, Gunn was in the lobby, signing something held out for him by a young paralegal. "Hey," Angel greeted him. "We lost the head. Start marshaling the troops for war."

Gunn just shrugged, very nonchalant, "Head's in your office."

"It is?" Angel asked, looking back to me in confusion.

"Yeah," the lawyer replied, nodding to me carefully in greeting. "Showed up a couple of hours ago."

I followed as Angel shook his head and entered his office, closing the door behind us. There, on the desk, was a bowling ball case with a little note attached. "With regards," read Angel, his voice weary and frustrated, "the Immortal." Clenching up in rage, Angel started shredding the note with his fingers. "I really hate that guy."

"Yeah!" I agreed angrily, taking a peek in the bag to make sure it was actually a head this time, and not another bomb. "I can't believe she's with _him_."

"Believe it, Will," he sighed, turning around so he could lean back against the desk. "She's better off without us."

"But…" I said, wondering if he could be right. We were definitely better off without her, anyways. I knew that, as painful as it was to admit. But just the thought of him touching her like that… "Ugh! Can't we just put her in a box, where no one can touch her? Like we did with Pavayne?"

"I don't know," Angel sighed. "I don't think she'd let us. She's pretty strong."

"What about a spell, then?" I suggested. "Some sort of anti-love potion?"

"She'd figure it out," Angel insisted, holding out his arm so I would come sit with him, which I did. "She's pretty smart."

"What do we do?" I asked. Buffy and the Immortal? Just too infuriating for words, even if I didn't want her back.

"We just have to realize that it's over," he replied, scooting me closer with one arm and laying his head on my shoulder.

"It's over," I said, getting the taste of the words on my tongue. They were bitter, but familiar. "Buffy and I are over."

"Yep."

"I knew that. Before today, even, I knew that." I sighed, "So, now what? We move on?"

"That's the thing to do," Angel smiled, pulling me into a kiss that was mostly sweet, but had a little fire around the edges.

"Okay," I replied between kisses. "I'm moving on, right now."

"Me, too," Angel chuckled as he stood up and pulled me toward the elevators, hands on my hips and mouth still nipping at mine. "Moving on."

"Aye, pet. Moving on."

We took things slow in the bedroom, mostly because of how exhausted we both were. But we helped each other undress, and every touch, every kiss, was like a little promise, saying we loved each other and we belonged together.

Slowly, I unbuttoned Angel's shirt, watching his face as he shivered under my touch. He looked uncharacteristically vulnerable. Completely at my mercy as far as his heart went. It was such a precious gift, and I'd almost thrown it away because of Buffy. Because of someone he and I both loved, but who didn't want us back. Here and now, the expression on Angel's face told me that he was mine, if I'd have him. There was no bloody way I would refuse his offer. Not now, not ever.

Carefully peeling back the shirt, I pushed it from Angel's shoulders, helping him out of it by holding the sleeves so they wouldn't get caught on his big hands. Underneath was a white tank top undershirt that showed off every delicious curve and hard-edged plane of his upper body. How could I ever have denied wanting _this_? Wanting him?

"God, luv," I whispered, pressing my lips to his bare shoulder as he ran his hands through my hair, messing it up so he could grab it in handfuls as we kissed. Over and over again, we kissed, getting reacquainted with each other's lips and tongues, remembering what it felt like to be _us_. Angel's hands made their way down to the hem of my t-shirt, brushing my belly lightly, working around gently to my hips and back. Under normal circumstances, I would have been crawling the walls by now, desperate to have him touching me, fucking me, anything. But tonight, as we undressed each other, everything felt different. Sacred, almost.

Angel pulled up on my shirt, gently tugging it over my head, and smiling a little when his eyes caught mine again when I was free of it. After dropping the shirt to the floor, he let his hands roam my chest. "They're all gone," he whispered, tracing what he remembered of the lines that used to be on my skin, before they healed. His markings, his claim that he'd staked with pain and passion and love, had faded from sight. But not from my memory.

"They're not gone," I insisted, holding his hand against my chest with one of mine. "As long as I'm yours, they're still there, under the surface."

"Do you want new ones?" he asked, though I could tell he wasn't in the right mood to redraw them. At some point, he _would_ want to hurt me, and the desire would strike him soon, but today wasn't that day.

"Another day," I nodded, shifting closer to him as I pulled off his tank top. "Another day I'll be your victim and you'll be my tormentor and we'll ride that wave of need together. You'll be everything I want and everything I need to feel safe, to feel … cared about. But not today."

"No," he agreed, kissing me softly as his hands ran down my chest to my belt. "This is something else."

I chuckled softly as he undid the belt buckle, "Moving on, eh, luv?" Angel laughed softly in reply.

As my hands found his waist and undid the fastenings of his trousers, Angel kissed me again, kicking away his pants when they fell and directing me toward the bed. He sat me down carefully, bending to catch my ankles so he could tug my jeans from my legs, inch by inch, revealing the rest of me. Now naked, I brought my legs underneath me and kneeled before him on the bed, eyes level with his beautiful chest. I peppered his skin with kisses, breathing him in and feeling for once in a long, long, time completely at home.

Dropping his boxers from his hips, I murmured appreciation for his cock on principle, but I was in no hurry to get my hands on it. Instead, I ran my fingers up and down his lower back, ass, and upper legs, pressing my cheek to his chest and letting him hold me close. After a few passes, I wrapped my arms around his ribs, squeezing him as I tried to tell him what I was thinking, because he had to know. "You…" I choked on my words a little as tears threatened to escape my eyes.

"Hmm?" he asked, drawing my chin up so I could meet his gaze, which made the overwhelming nature of the emotion even worse.

I let him go, shuffling back on the bed to lie down on my side, my head on my pillow as I tried to keep the tears from escaping. I was such a bloody nancy, crying over something good. In a moment, I felt Angel join me in bed, the mattress shifting as he lay down behind me, the bedcovers rustling as he joined me under them. I could feel how much he wanted to touch me, but he kept back. "What _about_ me, Will?"

He'd done it again. Used my given name like _that_. Completely opposite from how Angelus used to say it. The way Angel used it, it sounded like a term of endearment, a caress, a promise. Sighing, I turned over to face him, showing him the tears that now ran down my cheek or over the bridge of my nose on their way toward my pillow. I laughed wetly and Angel smiled through his own watery eyes.

"_I_ have a _pillow_ in _your bed_." I told him as the thought popped into my head, laughing again at how preposterous it sounded. I mean, really? Him and me? Always?

And then Angel had to go and say, "_Our_ bed," and I came undone, laughing and crying until I didn't know which was which anymore. The mixture infected Angel with this confusing mess of emotions until he was doing the same, laughing through the tears and drawing me closer to him.

"Oh, luv," I sighed, wiping his face with my fingertips. "I _was_ going to say that you feel like Sire, but it's much more than that. You feel like home."

"You are my home, Spike," he smiled, sniffing unconsciously. "Why do you think I'm so possessive of you?"

"Because you're a git?" I guessed, getting him to laugh again.

"And you're infuriating," he said, squeezing me once more before stretching out and laying on his stomach, though he kept his face toward me. His smile was so calm and relaxed, now that we'd both stopped crying, it fucking made me love him that much more.

"I wouldn't have broken my bloody promise," I assured him, running my hand lightly over his skin before sitting up and setting out to kiss every inch of his back.

"Not even if she asked you to?" he murmured, arching up into my touch, his body letting me know he enjoyed the attention.

"No. I was just angry with you when I said that," I replied, running my fingers over his tattoo and playing with the way his skin reacted to my touch. "Look, Angel, I know how you feel about me," I noted the tension in his muscles as I mentioned this, using my fingers and lips to soothe it away as I whispered, "and I feel the same way about you, alright? So no one has to say it out loud until he's ready. I just…thought you should know. Okay, pet?"

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat and turning over to face me. "Okay," he nodded, pulling me down and kissing me deeply. Gazing into my eyes as we parted, he said softly, "Just don't use it to break me."

"I'll do my best, luv," I nodded, burying my face in his shoulder, letting him envelop me in his arms.

"I'm serious," he said, hugging me tighter. "If you left, it would break me."

"I don't think I'd survive it either, luv," I agreed, sighing and making myself comfortable against him. Angel stroked my back with lazy, gentle caresses and I let my fingers find his hair, combing through it and scratching his scalp with my short, blunt fingernails.

We sat in silence for a long, long time, and I just thought about what Angel had said. He definitely loved me. I was his home, for chrissakes! Even though we'd only really been together for two months or so, it felt more like a lifetime. We'd known each other so well before, and the souls didn't change that familiarity very much. Once I got used to the fact that he wouldn't purposely hurt me unless I asked him to, it was easy to let all the other pieces fall into place. It was easy to love him.

Listening to his soul, burning in that place where his heart used to beat, I wondered how much longer we'd have together. 'Always' could be a long time, for a vampire. Though this bloody Apocalypse could shorten that span considerably. But we'd get there together, anyways. And then, if one of us was going into battle, the other surely would as well. We wouldn't have to worry about coming out the other side, because we'd go down in flaming glory, together. Wasn't a bad way to end things, really. If they had to end.

"Should we just get some sleep?" Angel asked in a whisper.

"Aye, luv," I replied, already noting how the exhaustion was setting in. We'd set out to have sex, but somehow this had become more intimate. Better. And sleep sounded even better yet. "There's always tomorrow, yeah?"

Angel smiled and kissed me on the forehead. "Always."

* * *

_Was that satisfactory? _

_I wrote most of this while majorly sleep deprived. We had a wind-storm in the middle of the nigh, and I couldn't go back to sleep, so I just started writing. Something about sleep deprivation and almost slipping into dreams here and there makes the writing process very surreal and lackadasical. It seemed to fit the tone of the chap well, so I just rolled with it. (I also wrote the first chap of The Prizefighter under similar conditions, and sometimes I wonder if it shows...)  
_

_And though this may feel like the end of a fic, I assure you, it is not. There are many chapters yet to come, but this one...this was a turning point. _

_Thank you for reading and commenting. I am driven to write partially for myself, but partially because I have you folks clamoring for more._

_~Ptera  
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	6. The Girl in Question Part 6

_A/N: Watch out! It's a smut chapter! ;) Hope you enjoy!  
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The next day, I went up to the penthouse after a long day of meetings, ready to take some time off. The Capo was pupating nicely, according to his relatives, so we managed to avert disaster there. Not that anyone was happy with me. Gunn was still upset with me for letting the Fel Brethren keep that woman's baby. Lorne was pretty well smashed the entire day, but it probably made dealing with his famous clients easier. Fred was taking some time off to come to an agreement with Illyria about how they were going to get along with each other, living in one brain.

And Spike kept shooting me looks that said, "Fuck me right now," which I _couldn't_. I'd already lost so much time in Italy that everyone was clamoring for everything from me and I couldn't get more than two minutes to myself. I got fed up with Spike and my quickly waning control, so I sent him up to the apartment a few hours earlier, and he'd actually listened to me for once. Maybe being in love had some perks, besides the obvious, I mean. Or maybe Spike just realized what a hopeless cause it was trying to pry me from the clingy grasp of all those lawyers before they were done with me. Which now they were, thank God.

I found Spike in the living room, playing a video game on his handheld thingy and watching some trashy primetime soap. He loves that big screen TV. I swear, if I let him, he'd have it on all the time, day and night, just for the luxury of it. Spike never could manage to gather more than a little money at a time, mostly because he and Dru liked to make an extravagant entrance into any town they passed through. And that flashy entrance usually led to a less than graceful exit, and he'd move on to the next town. I tried to teach him better, to be careful who he killed, how to get into the best places quietly, but did he listen to me? No. He'd only ever taken the lessons he'd wanted, and pissed on all the rest. And now I was taking care of him, again. Giving him a nice place to stay, all the blood he could drink, and a big screen TV to watch. I'd give him more if he asked it of me.

I smiled at the sight of Spike with his feet on the armrest of the couch and the way he called out, "Hullo, luv," without looking up. Kicking off my shoes and stretching out my feet, I hung my sports coat into the bedroom and stopped by the kitchen, microwaving two mugs full of pig's blood. Into one, I added a shot of whiskey and three dashes of hot sauce. Don't ask me why Spike can't be satisfied with plain old blood. I'll never know.

Joining Spike on the couch, I set his mug down in front of him and changed the channel to a hockey game.

"Oi!" he yelled. "I was watchin' that!"

"No you weren't, sunshine." I grabbed the game from his hands and threw it onto a cushioned chair across the room.

Spike huffed indignantly. "Angel, pet," he said turning to face me and practically growling. "You shouldn't have done that." Oh, good. He was feeling dangerous tonight, just like I was. As intimate and gentle as the night before had been, I was aching to taste his blood and hurt him, mark him with my teeth and claim him yet again as mine. I wanted to get inside him, to fuck him and make love to him, erasing any distance between us. I wanted to make him scream my name and tell me he loved me. And I wanted to say it back.

"Shut up and drink your blood, Spike." I smiled at him, but kept a warning in my eyes. Things would go _my way_ tonight because I knew this would be the best way to really prove to him that I was putting everything that happened in Rome behind us. It was the best way we could move on together.

"Why on earth would I do that?" he snarled in reply.

I leaned over, keeping my eyes on his as I inhaled his scent, practically getting drunk on him, and he wasn't even worked up yet. "Because you're going to need your strength for later."

Spike paused for a moment, eyes dilating as he caught my meaning. "What have you got planned?"

I turned back to the game wordlessly, finishing off my blood and setting the mug on the coffee table. Keenly aware Spike's eyes were still on me, I settled back into the couch cushions and set my feet on the table in front of us.

"Ange?" Of all the names he calls me, this is the one I like the best. I'd never tell Spike this, but it sounds more familiar than all the other pet names he uses. This one was just for me.

Still without looking at him, I took a pair of plain metal handcuffs from my pocket and dangled them from one finger. I'd gotten them about a week ago, but hadn't felt like putting them to use until this night. The gasp that escaped his lips when he saw them made me smile and shiver in anticipation as I set the cuffs on the table near my feet. Obviously intrigued, Spike took up his mug, humming in approval after the first taste before gulping the blood greedily.

"Slow down, there, trigger," I said with a laugh, pulling on his arm to lower the mug. "I said later and I meant later."

"How much later?"

"We'll see." I kinda wanted to see the rest of the hockey game before things got too involved. And I wanted him to want me beyond all reason. Because that's how much I wanted him.

"God. You're a fucking bastard, you know that?" Spike's tone was admonishing, furious, but the look on his face said he loved this tortuous streak of mine.

"Mmm. I know."

I stretched my arms out along the back of the couch, intent on relaxing a bit before I got all worked up again. Spike finished his blood, sipping it slowly this time before he set the mug down in front of us and shifted over, closer to me. I put my arm around his shoulders, pulling him in tighter and kissing his temple briefly. Spike grumbled, but settled in beside me, leaning his head on my shoulder and petting the top of my thigh with soothing fingertips. It was nice to be home.

* * *

Twenty minutes later I had the handcuffs back in one hand and Spike was trying to get his hands under my shirt as we stumbled to the bedroom, kissing. Kissing is too tame a word. We were mauling each other with tongues and lips and blunt human teeth. My shirt went first and I winced at the sound of the last two buttons flying off as Spike got frustrated with them and pulled my shirt open, plunging his hands in to touch my chest, my back, my hips.

I tossed the cuffs onto the bed, pushing Spike's t-shirt up and over his head, smiling when he whimpered as the cloth separated us for a brief second. And then we were back together, skin-on-skin, hands and mouths and teeth on flesh. Spike's skin tasted like everything, bittersweet, spicy, musky, salty as I sucked open mouthed kisses across his neck and shoulders, and I wondered if this was what love always tasted like. In my long life, I'd only ever loved one person before him, and that was Buffy. I remembered her tasting more like sunshine and sugar. And blood. Hot, powerful slayer blood, thick and heavy as it coated my mouth and throat... No, this was definitely better, safer. I could bite Spike, drink his blood, get off on how fantastic it felt to bury my fangs and fuck at the same time. I could revel in how light and dark and complex his blood tasted and not have to worry about losing control and killing him.

When we reached the foot of the bed, I pushed him down onto it, roughly. Spike cried out a satisfying yelp at the surprise, looking up at me, lips in a snarl, eyes vulnerable and wide. He needed this, I could tell by his eyes and his scent and the way he puffed up his chest for a fight. Spike needed me to wrestle him down and take him, to show him I loved him by proving I was stronger, by taking care of everything, by hurting him in just the ways he liked. Shivering in anticipation, I pushed him down and got his pants off as quickly as I could, tackling him down into the mattress with hands and mouth and hips. As we kissed, slippery lips and tongues sliding over one another, Spike grabbed me by my ass cheeks, pulling me towards him, grinding us together. I shuddered as his cock rubbed against mine under my clothes and brushed against my bare stomach, cool smooth silky skin over iron.

After rolling around like this for awhile, I stood up and let Spike roughly undo my belt and trousers, which he let fall from my hips to pool around my ankles. As I stepped out of them and kicked them away, Spike took my prick into his mouth, making me hiss in pleasure. "Oh, hon," I whispered, caressing his head lovingly before I remembered he wanted me to be mean. At the thought, I grabbed him by the back of the neck and thrust into his mouth a few times, hard, making his eyes water and a moaning whimper vibrate from his throat. It had been a few days since we'd been together and seeing him like this, just taking me in, was more than I could handle without coming undone _right then_. So I pushed him away roughly, trying not to whine at the loss of his mouth around me. And failing.

To hide my momentary loss of control, I pushed Spike back down onto the bed roughly by the shoulders, grabbing his wrist and dragging him by one arm to the headboard. He struggled against me on principle, "Let me go, you stupid poof!" When he managed to kick me in the ribs, I retaliated with a punch that landed on his sharp cheekbone, stunning him. While he was still recovering, I picked up the handcuffs and snapped them around one wrist, threading the chain around a bar on the headboard and catching the other wrist in the free cuff. Spike was now tied, hands above his head, sitting halfway up, to the headboard. The handcuffs probably couldn't hold him for long, but he liked the illusion, and the pain of the metal biting into his skin.

"You'll pay for this, Angel," Spike growled, bucking as I straddled him, sitting on his hips to keep him pinned down. Not that he wasn't strong enough to throw me off if he really wanted to. But the way his struggling against me felt more like deliberate rocking and thrusting said that he wanted me there.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, precious," I growled, grabbing him by the hair so I could pull his head back and to the side, exposing his neck. Fuck, I wanted to bite him so badly, it took all my willpower and several slow breaths to keep my face from changing. Once I had myself under control, I licked his throat in one long caress from collar to jaw to ear, savoring the taste of his skin and the way he shuddered beneath me. "Mmm," I whispered in his ear. "I can taste your blood through your skin, Will. And it's so fucking good. So good. I'm going to sink my fangs into your flesh, marking your skin with my teeth and sucking the life from you over and over. And you're going to beg me for more."

"Ange, luv," he said, voice almost steady enough to hide how turned on he was, "you've nothing I'd beg for."

"We'll see," I smirked, grinding my ass down against his hardness, chuckling when he gasped and thrust up against me. I kissed him again, one hand still entangled in his hair, the other brushing light fingertips over his chest, caressing one hardened nipple teasingly every few seconds. When I felt his cock twitch under me and I smiled against his lips, pleased at how much of an effect I had on him.

Now that he had a soul, only I knew him well enough to get him this worked up, only I knew exactly what he liked and what he hated. Only I knew that the pained look flashing across his face meant love and wanting and surrender. Only I knew these things, because only I loved him this way. Between kisses and struck with sudden emotion, I took Spike's face in my hands and whispered in his ear, "You're mine, Will, always."

"Always, always?" he asked in his own whisper, brushing the side of his cheek against mine.

"I promise," I agreed, keeping my cheek with his as I tried to pull my brain back to where it needed to be. Because right now, all I wanted to do was ask him to say those words, the ones we'd been avoiding for awhile now. He'd said as good as the night before, but I wanted everything. I wanted to hurt him until he said it, until he broke, shivering in my arms and telling me everything I wanted to hear. But no, I had to let him say it in his own time. I had to make tonight all about what he needed, not about what I wanted to hear from him. So I sighed and sat back, releasing his head and brushing both my hands up and down his chest.

To get back some semblance of control, I took a few deep breaths and let my demon's face slip forward. "Where should I bite you first?"

"How's about I bite you?" he sassed, changing faces to match mine, and bucking his legs and hips to propel me forward and into fang's reach. I managed to stop my forward momentum with my hands against the headboard, on either side of his head, but Spike managed to sink his fangs into my left bicep, sucking the blood that welled up eagerly. It felt so painfully good that I almost forgot I wasn't supposed to let him get away with it. Not during this game.

I growled and grabbed him by the back of the neck, squeezing hard. Because I'm his grandsire, Spike's instincts took over and he stilled, releasing his teeth from my arm. Keeping my bitten arm in place to show I wasn't scared of him, I used the back of his neck to turn him so he faced me, nose to nose. Then, I let loose my demon's growl to intimidate him. And Spike fucking _giggled_. So I punched him once in punishment, striking him against the jaw before standing up. My face returned to normal as I went and sat in a chair in the corner where he could see me, licking the wound on my arm.

"Oh, c'mon, Angel," Spike complained, his human face slipping back on. "T'were only a bit of fun."

"Did I say you could bite me?" I kept a bit of that growl in my voice, smiling to myself when he sucked in an aroused breath.

"Not with actual words, no," he replied, trying to sound defiant. But I knew his voice so well that I could pick out the tremble he was trying to hide.

I sat back in the chair loosely, smiling at him. "Then you get to lie there, with my blood rushing through your body, making you painfully hard, unable to do anything about it."

"Angel!" he yelled, pulling on his chains, rattling the headboard. "That's a punishment far outweighing the crime, and you know it." He could escape anytime he wanted to, really, but Spike liked being tortured a little. Or a lot, depending on the day.

"I know," I smirked, letting one of my hands trail down my chest and over my belly. I brushed my cock lightly, shivering a little at the contact, and looked up at Spike, giving him my evil smile as I stroked myself.

He groaned. "What are you doing, luv?"

"You got me all worked up, and I don't see why I should be punished for your bad behavior."

"No," he moaned. "Please come back." Spike wriggled, thrusting against the air. The blood, the cuffs, me out of reach, everything affected him at once and he looked pained in the wanting. His legs kicked uselessly against the bedsheets, roughing them up as he whispered, "Please, Ange. I need you."

"I don't know," I drawled, still stroking myself slowly. "Can you be good?"

"Absolutely," he breathed.

I loved how much he wanted me. It made every stroke of my hand ten times more pleasurable, knowing he was watching and wanting me. "No more biting?"

He shook his head. "Please, peaches. I'm gonna explode. I need you to come back."

"Say 'please' one more time."

"Please, Angel! Please! I'll do anything you want, just come back and touch me." God, I wanted to demand he say those three little words. I wanted to keep Spike in agony until he admitted how much he loved me. But he'd never forgive me for that, for forcing him to say it before he was ready. Because as much as he liked to play the defiant victim who could withstand many an onslaught, he was truly fragile and he trusted me not to break him too much. Just enough to make him feel alive again.

Unable to keep myself away from Spike any longer, I stood, stalking back over to him and kneeling beside the bed. "I could leave you panting in your own desire for hours," I purred, running a finger down the center of his chest and belly, stopping right before I came to his cock. Spike's stomach muscles contracted as if to close the gap by thrusting up and forcing me to touch him. But then he stopped himself, holding his body completely still because he knew he had to let me be in control. If he was going to get what he needed out of this, he needed to surrender.

"Please don't," he moaned plaintively, holding himself rigidly, tremblingly, still. "Please, please touch me."

My finger traveled further down, up and over the head of his cock and I reveled in the hard and velvety feel of him, remembering how wonderful he felt inside me. "Like this?"

"Oh, yes," Spike hissed as my finger continued its journey down his shaft and up again.

To get more comfortable, I switched hands as I crawled over Spike, sitting on the bed on the other side of him. Using my whole hand, I stroked him lightly, not unlike how I had touched myself earlier and Spike groaned again, "Oh, that's the bloody stuff, mate. Don't ever fucking stop. Oh, Angel. Fuck, Ange. Please."

To hide how my name on his lips brought tears to my eyes, I vamped out and licked my way up from his belly, over his chest to his neck. After caressing Spike's skin with my tongue over and over and sucking his neck until he screamed out, "Angel!" I bit him shallowly, only hitting one of the big veins, making him groan deep in his throat. Oh, the taste was as God damned good as ever, and I almost came just from the pleasure of it sliding over my tongue. As I sucked down a few mouthfuls of his blood, and then a few more, Spike started rocking his hips, thrusting into my hand, asking for more contact. I gave it to him gladly, gripping tighter and moving my hand up and down his shaft faster as I licked his wound closed. Spike's blood pooled in my stomach and suffused from there into my entire body, making me feel heavier and lighter at the same time, dizzy and pulsing and almost alive as the blood coursed through me.

"Mine," I whispered as I kissed the wound, trailing my lips down his skin toward his collarbone.

"Uh-huh," Spike agreed, hissing in pain as I bit the bone gently, sharp teeth making shallow pin-pricks in the skin that I lapped at greedily before moving on.

I nuzzled against Spike's chest, biting him again there, below his nipple. "Oh, pet," he breathed.

"You like it when I bite you," I murmured against his skin, "don't you, precious?"

"So much," he said, gasping as I squeezed his cock harder, increasing the friction as I stroked him. Biting him again on his side, below the ribs I smiled around my fangs as Spike whispered, "Shit, Angel. It hurts in all the right places."

"Mmm," I agreed, biting the flesh below his hipbone, making him gasp again. His blood was so good I couldn't help but take more and more of it, drawing him into me. Briefly, I regretted not making him drink two mugs of pig's blood for dinner. At this rate, he might go soft from the blood loss before I got everything I wanted from him. But there was a way to remedy the situation and I ached with need at the thought he might accept.

"Do you want to bite me again?" I asked, releasing my grip on his cock and straddling him as I had before.

"Oh, Ange, you know I do. I won't last, though, not after everything."

"You don't have to last," I said, kissing him with a grin. "You just have to be ready to go again before too long. D'ya think you can do that, hon?"

"Yeah, sure, pet," Spike said, voice husky and low as I ground myself against him. Watching how his eyes were glued to my neck I tilted my head to the side, exposing the veins to him and shivering as his face changed. Spike's fangs slid into my flesh as I rocked my hips, arching so my bare cock could rub against his as he drank. "Mmmugh," he moaned against my neck, his whole body clenching as the blood flowed into his mouth. After the first swallow, he was gone, clasping me to him with his legs entwined in mine, drinking me down and thrusting against my prick and belly as he came.

"Oh, oh, bloody hell pet," he whispered, licking the last of the blood from my neck.

"That's one you owe me," I goaded, voice low and demanding, almost ready to just bend him in half and get it over with.

"Anything you want, luv," he said, head lolling back against the headboard. "Just gimme a minute to recover."

"Of course," I smiled, kissing his lips a few times, trying not to invade his mouth with my tongue. Spike needed a minute to recover and I needed a minute to cool down. I had more plans for him that night, and none of them included me getting off so soon, not when he still had so much unmarked flesh. So perfectly soft and creamy and rough under my lips and fangs. God, I had to stop thinking about it, so I got out of bed to walk it off.

In the meantime, I went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth, using it to wipe away the come that was already drying on my belly. I rinsed it out and brought it back out to Spike, cleaning him off as he watched, arms still immobilized above his head.

"You could've left it," he mumbled.

I grabbed his chin harshly, turning him to meet my eyes and finding a glint of playfulness there. "I like you all smooth and hard," I said, running a flat hand over his belly, "not sticky."

Spike hummed in approval as I leaned down to kiss him, starting again slowly. With one hand still on his chin, I wrapped the other around the back of his neck, squeezing lightly to assert my dominance again. It made Spike shiver charmingly and I nuzzled his face with my nose, bathing in the scent of love and family, lust and home.

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_Please remember to stop drooling and review! :) Oh, and this scene is continued in the next chapter, which should be up before too long, so don't kill me for leaving it there!  
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	7. The Girl in Question Part 7

_A/N: Minor comics spoilers from here on out.  
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The Girl in Question - Part 7

I was about to work my way in bites down Spike's untouched side when I heard the elevator doors swish open. We both froze as someone stepped off into the living room and my throat closed in anxiety when I remembered I'd forgotten to lock the bedroom door. I jumped up, wrapping a sheet around myself and carefully approaching the doorway.

"Oi!" Spike hissed at me, rattling his chains and glancing down at his completely naked body. I motioned for him to be quiet while I checked it out. It was probably just Harmony wanting a signature for something.

As I approached the living room, I smelled her just a fraction of a second before I saw her. A blonde woman stood with her back to me, turning over in her fingers an ornamental dagger that belonged on the table in front of her. She wore dark brown boots under tan dress pants and a white and pink blouse under a matching tan jacket. Her hair was up in a pretty knot at the back of her head, exposing the alluring nape of her neck. Though they'd changed slightly since the last time I'd seen her, her form and her smell were achingly familiar.

"Buffy?" I breathed, and she turned, dropping the dagger when she missed putting it back on the table.

"Oh!" she sighed prettily as she dropped to pick the knife back up, replacing it on its stand carefully. "Hi, Angel," she said with a small wave. She looked good. Not quite as skinny as the last time I'd seen her, curves more like how they'd been when I first met her, before the duties of being The Slayer really beat her down. Though she was trying to look content, I could almost feel how lonely she was underneath. It made me want to go to her, fold her in my arms, and tell her everything was going to be fine.

I took a few steps forward before I realized my state of undress and the vampire in my bed and stopped. Oh, shit. "Buffy," I greeted her, trying to sound friendly and not freaked out. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, because I am, but what are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"You got that right, bub," she said, pointing at me. "I hear you just paid a visit to Rome – "

"There was business that couldn't wait," I said lamely. "I tried to come see you."

"And Spike was with you." She crossed her arms under her breasts, clearly upset and angry with me.

"Oh."

"Yeah," she snarled, "'Oh'. You couldn't pick up the phone and tell me he was back like a normal person? I know you hate him and you hate that we were together, but I had to find out that Spike was still alive from Andrew. Andrew!"

"It was his decision," I tried to explain. "I couldn't tell you even if Giles had given me a way to get in touch with you, Buffy. Spike wanted you to remember him as a hero."

"Well,_ now_," she almost yelled, "I'll remember him as a coward who's too scared to make a phone call!"

"Oi!" Spike shouted from the bedroom and I cringed at his stupidity. "I'm no coward!"

"Is he back there?" asked Buffy, clearly out for blood. I moved to block her way because if she found him, there was a very good chance we vampires could both end up dead, souls or no.

"I really don't think…" I started, putting a hand on her shoulder while the other tried to keep the sheet around my waist. But Buffy grabbed my wrist and swung me out of the way and into a wall, leaving a big dent in the plaster. Crap, the firm was gonna charge me for that, weren't they?

"Spike," Buffy yelled as she stalked past me, "I'm gonna kick your ass so hard..."

I caught up with Buffy just as she turned into the bedroom and found Spike cuffed to the bed and displayed in all his naked glory. "Hey, Buff," he said, smiling shamelessly.

"What?" she breathed, pointing at him. "And, what?" she asked turning to me, finally noticing I was clothed only in a bed sheet. "Are you two…?"

"No!" I said in a panic, just as Spike told her, "Yes."

"Is this some sort of crazy vampire thing?" Buffy's gaze flashed to the bite mark on my arm, still a bright angry red.

Spike scoffed, "No," as I cried, "Yes!" I gave him a look, telling him to shut up and stop contradicting me.

"This is a dream," Buffy insisted. "I fell asleep on the plane and this is just a dream. A really crazy dream, because usually you two wait for me before the nakedness happens."

"You dream about us, kitten?" asked Spike, his voice tender and curious.

"Only, like, all the time lately."

"Really?" I asked, hopeful. Maybe she wouldn't kill us.

"Usually there's some sort of outfit involved," she looked down at her clothes, blushing fiercely. She was remembering of one of _those_ sorts of dreams. Which included both Spike and me. At the same time…oh, for chrissakes! As the image flitted through my brain, still hazy on Spike's blood, I groaned quietly, drawing Buffy's attention. She gave me a long look, her eyes taking in everything before she turned her gaze to Spike and subjected him to the same treatment. Eyes still fixed on him, she threw her arm out at me. "Pinch me, would ya, Angel?"

"Huh?" Was this part of her fantasy, too?

"To make sure I'm dreaming!" she insisted, backhanding me lightly on the arm. With my free hand, I pinched her on the arm through the fabric of her jacket.

"Ouch! Oh." She looked up at me. "Oh!" I felt my face set in a grim line as she realized the truth. "This isn't a dream?" she asked me.

I shook my head. Unfortunately it wasn't. The real world was more complicated for the three of us.

"And you and Spike?" Her finger pointed to the both of us in succession, back and forth to draw a connection between us.

"Uh?" I looked over at Spike, asking him for some help explaining things to Buffy.

"Shaggin' each other's brains out." Fuck. Some help he was! Blunt as usual. I went searching for my pants and the handcuff key in the pocket, so I could release Spike. There. I picked them up from the corner and went through the pockets, looking for the key.

"Angel?" Buffy's voice sounded small, hurt. Where was that damn key? She touched my arm and I stopped my search, looking down at her, my heart breaking at the devastated look in her eyes. "Why?" she asked.

"I…Spike…It's less lonely," I confessed, sighing and catching Spike's eye, "for the both of us. And I can..."

Buffy searched my eyes when I brought them back to her, the look on her face softening into something approaching understanding. "You can sleep with him without losing your soul?"

"Yeah," I said, not sure that was the right answer, though it was the truth.

"But you don't love him, _do you_?" She said this like an accusation, like I was using him the same way she had, and she couldn't abide that.

"I do," I admitted, watching as I expected her face to crumble. But it didn't, instead taking on an expression closer to regret or confusion. "I love him so much, Buffy, but he doesn't make me perfectly happy. There's just too much history." I glanced over at Spike, who was giving me an odd, thoughtful sort of look now. "Plus," I added, scratching behind my ear self-consciously before returning to my search, "he's a guy…" I finally found the key in my pants pocket, so I pulled the pants on and brought the key over to Spike, covering him in the sheet I no longer needed.

"Yeah, I had noticed Spike's guy-like properties," Buffy said, a smirk in her voice but missing from her face as her eyes slid briefly toward the sheet that now covered him. "I never knew either of you…," Buffy said, letting the suggestion hang in the air as I stood next to Spike, feeling torn between releasing him and rushing to comfort her as a tear rolled down her face. "Am I that difficult to be with?"

"No!" I insisted, unlocking one of the cuffs and handing Spike the key so he could do the other, which he didn't right away. He just drew his legs up to his chest under the sheet so he could hug them loosely, handcuffs still dangling enticingly from his wrist.

"O' course not," Spike agreed, drawing Buffy's attention. "Me and Angel has nothing to do with you, luv. Honest."

"Why didn't you come? I mean, if I knew you were alive earlier…"

"Angel needed me," he said simply, giving me a small smile and scooting over so I could sit on the bed next to him, which I did, putting a possessive hand on the back of his neck. "As much as I love you, I belong here, Buffy. This is my home now. Been workin' for the bloody Powers and keepin' this git in line. I got a life of my own, you know."

"Oh," Buffy replied, chagrined, sinking down onto the foot of the bed, facing us. "I…I guess I'm just surprised. Last time I saw you two, you wanted to kill each other. What changed?"

"Yeah, there were hard feelings, pet," Spike answered. "A lot of it over you, but even more was over what we used to mean to each other."

"You were together before?"

"Not romantically," I assured her, but Spike scoffed audibly. "Well, not really, but we were…_close_. Friends. Family."

"Yeah, until this tosser left me."

"Darla made me go," I insisted, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. "And Dru couldn't stand the sight of me, either."

Grumbling, he pulled his hand from mine and said, "Well, no one ever asked_ my_ opinion on the matter."

After a moment of silence while I tried to think of how to respond to Spike, Buffy asked, "So what changed?"

"We fought, I won," Spike said, "and then, one day Angel kissed me."

"_Angel _kissed _you_?" she asked, breaking out in almost manic laughter like she couldn't believe I'd be the aggressor in that situation. Like Spike had talked me into kissing him. Which he _hadn't_. Having sex with him on the other hand…

I scoffed, "There was more to it than that."

"Sorry," she giggled. "I'm sorry. I'm just having the strangest day ever. I really did not expect to find_ this_ when I got on a plane this morning. I mean, look at you two, together," she pointed.

I looked down, realizing I still wasn't wearing a shirt, and then over to Spike, who was naked under the sheet slung over his legs. Spike caught my eye with an evil smile on his face, making me ask, "What?"

"Buffy, luv?" he asked, turning face her, tilting his head.

"What, Spike?" Another pained laugh escaped Buffy's lips around the thumbnail she was chewing on.

"Like what you see, kitten?"

"Like?" she asked, laughing again. "What's not to like? Just the two men I love most in the world moving on without me. Who wouldn't like that?"

"Buffy…" I whispered, wanting to reach out to her, but Spike held me back with a hand on my arm.

"Would you like to join us, pet?"

"What?!" I growled. How dare he suggest something so crude to my Buffy? I grabbed him by the hair, cocking my arm to punch him in the nose. Which he defiantly seemed to think was funny.

"Wait!" yelled Buffy, grabbing my arm.

"He can't say that about you," I protested, but I released my grip on his hair.

"It's not that bad," she said with an embarrassed smile, looking at Spike, who still had that sexy grin playing over his lips.

Spike hummed an amused sound, pursing his lips and sucking in his cheeks. "So what d'ya say, Buff? We could make those dreams of yours come true." I hit him on the arm, just for the cheesiness of that line, but he just looked up at me with that same wicked smile.

"I..." she faltered, looking between the two of us. There was no way she would take Spike up on his offer. Would she? She had implied that her dreams about us weren't so innocent. But Spike hadn't even asked me before offering us both up to her.

"You can't be serious," I told him, turning to read his face, still sitting beside him on the bed with Buffy over us. "Today was supposed to be about _us_, and now…" I glanced up at the girl, noticing how she was watching me chastise Spike, almost curious. "Just being in the same city as Buffy almost broke us up! And you know why Buffy and I can't be together."

"But _now_ we definitely know how we feel about each other, Angel," he replied. "Whatever happens, I'm always yours. And if I'm here, with you and Buffy, I can keep your soul safe. I'm your anchor, yeah, peaches?" Spike grabbed my hand, squeezing tightly and comfortingly.

"Yeah," I replied carefully, he seemed so _sure_ that Buffy wouldn't wreck things between us. Was he just deluding himself or did he really have that much confidence in the strength of our relationship? "Getting insulted the whole time we're together really does tend to negate perfect happiness."

Spike laughed, nudging me with his shoulder and head affectionately. "I'll keep you here, Ange. Besides," he leaned in to whisper in my ear, "look at her, luv. Look how much she wants us."

When I looked up at her, Buffy was almost smiling at the way Spike and I had our heads tilted together, like she was happy for us. But I could feel it under the surface, how she wanted nothing more than to join us, to feel as loved as we did. Spike whispered to me again, "I've got two words for you, luv. Buffy and _tits_."

I laughed ruefully, telling him, "I always get in trouble when I drink you, don't I, Will?"

"S'pose it depends on what you consider trouble," he replied with a grin, tongue caught between his teeth.

Though I can't say his words didn't tempt me, I sighed and shook my head and got up to go find Spike's clothes so he could get dressed. Maybe then we could all calm down and speak like adults and think this thing through. But Buffy stopped me as I passed her. "Wait," she said, standing and putting a hand on my upper arm. "Would you..."

"Would I, what?" I asked, surprised and feeling her electric touch put my stomach up in my throat.

"Oh, geez, you guys." She looked back and forth between the two of us. "Do you..." Buffy breathed in and out shakily and I inhaled, scenting that need I'd felt from her running off her in waves, almost overwhelming, almost bringing me to my knees. Spike's blood in my body sang, rushing to the surface, making me incredibly hard again, clouding my judgment. Spike rumbled as the smell of Buffy's need washed over him, too. "Do you want me?" she finished.

"Yes," I breathed, feeling myself drawn to her, needing to touch her. But I was supposed to stay away from her. For the sake of my soul and her happiness, it couldn't work out. I had to be the voice of reason here, didn't I? But I found I couldn't hold onto that conviction when she was looking at me with those big eyes of hers, smelling like she did.

"I…oh, God. I love you both and I don't want to ruin whatever you two have got going here. Could you really share me?"

That was the major question, wasn't it? Spike was jealous of how much she loved me, and I was jealous of how he got to be with her when I couldn't. Those jealousies had flared up these past few days, making us both say things we regretted. Tonight was supposed to be about repairing my relationship with Spike. But if we were both with her, if we both got to show Buffy how much we loved her and how much we loved each other, would there be anything to be jealous about?

Spike spoke first, leaning forward and playing with the cuff around his wrist, keeping his eyes lowered. "If it means having you back in our arms, kitten," Spike said, looking up at me for agreement, "we can make anything work." I felt better hearing the confidence in Spike's voice. Sure, the idiot would do almost anything to get laid, but his voice had real emotion behind it: confidence, love, appreciation, respect. And this was from the guy that tended to cover his true emotions in bluster and contrariness. In that stupid act he parades out so he doesn't have to feel so lost and vulnerable.

"Angel?" Buffy asked for my opinion, and I noticed how fast her pulse was racing and how her breaths came in shuddering gasps.

"Oh, Buffy," I said, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. I had told Buffy I loved him without even thinking about it. I loved Spike and I loved Buffy, but Spike was my home. I had to choose him, and turn her away. I had to, but I couldn't quite do it.

Letting my eyes meet Spike's I saw his face was showing a mixture of love and anticipation. This wasn't just about sex for him, it was about proving something. Proving he loved me more than he loved her? Or he loved us both the same? I knew that though Spike and I belonged together, Buffy held just as big a place in my heart as he did. Was this about proving that sometimes you could have everything you wanted out of life? Through our blood bond, I could feel how much Spike wanted this. How much he wanted her , how much he wanted to share her with me, and how much he wanted me to be happy. Hopefully not _too _happy. "You can do this without breaking your promise?" I asked him, sure he'd understand my meaning.

"Ange," Spike answered, "I told you I was yours always and I meant it."

The scent of want and love and need coming from each of them filled the room now, bombarding me and whipping up my own desires, and I knew if I wasn't careful, I would lose myself in them. But Spike had promised to keep me anchored, keep me safe. If I could put my sanity, my soul, in his hands, I could do this.

"You have to know that no matter what," I told the girl, "that Spike and I are staying together. I can't live without him. Not anymore." She nodded at me, wide eyed, and started to turn away until I stopped her with a hand on her jaw, bringing her eyes back to mine. Knowing I would probably regret the words later, I said to Buffy, "But to have the chance to touch you again, to love you? I just can't turn that down, Buffy." Her cheek was so warm under my fingers, her smell intoxicating as I bent down to kiss her, cupping her jaw in the palm of my hand. I'd been kissing Spike so much lately, that the kiss was softer and sweeter than I expected, though her lips just as warm and inviting as I remembered. And just as dangerous.

"Hey," said Spike, softly. "Don't forget about lad number two."

Buffy chuckled and left me, leaning down to kiss Spike as she'd kissed me, letting him comb his hands through her hair, loosing it from its bindings. They were so beautiful together that the tiny flame of jealousy in my heart was quashed before it grew to much more than a spark. My two blondes, both here at once, both in my bed. Our bed. That thought was intoxicating, not to mention the reality of it, spread out before me. Needing to join them, I stepped toward the bed, and then something occurred to me.

"What about the Immortal?" I asked.

"The who?" Buffy looked up, confused.

"Your European boyfriend, luv," said Spike. "We saw you together in Rome."

"Oh. That wasn't me in Rome. I live in Scotland," she explained, catching my hand and pulling me closer to where she and Spike were sitting on the bed.

"Then who did we see on the dance floor?" I asked. "Why did Andrew tell us it was you?"

"She's another Slayer, a decoy. I got pretty famous after the whole Sunnydale thing, so Xan and Andrew thought it would be a good idea."

"Buffy," Spike leveled with her, voice colored with a touch of suspicion, "we went to the apartment. It smelled like you and Dawn lived there."

"A spell," she said simply, standing up beside me and dropping her jacket from her shoulders with a playful glint in her eyes. "Can we get back to the kissing?"

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_A/N: Surprise! Unless you've read my story 'Remembering', that is!_

_I've had this scene written for a long time, but I had to practically rewrite everything, given what ended up happening in Time Bomb and earlier in this story. But my writing has gotten a lot better since I wrote it, so a revision was definitely in order. I'm playing with the idea of going back and re-writing 'A Different Hole in the World' purely for stylistic purposes. Maybe once this one is done._

_Anyway, what did you think of Buffy's appearance? Did I get it right? I spent a lot of time getting Angel's thought process down so it made sense, and then making Spike's dialogue more three dimensional than it had been before. I'd love to hear any and all comments!_


	8. The Girl in Question Part 8

_A/N: This chapter is rated very M for sex and language, just so you know. Not that it's much different from my norm, but you've been warned in any case! ;)  
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_So, once I got through the revisions this week, the chapter ended up really long. Six thousand words! Once done with this chapter, you will probably have read at least 115 thousand words of this series! And I've got ideas for so much more.__ I hope you like it and thanks for reading all the way through!_

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The Girl in Question – Part 8

"You're sure, Buffy?" I asked, knowing that once this started there was no way I was stopping. The girl nodded and pulled me closer, holding her breath as my lips descended towards hers. Unable to be gentle any longer, I kissed Buffy hard, wrapping my arms around her and squeezing, lifting her slight frame against me for a few seconds, making her squeal in surprise, before I set her back down. Her hands were all over me, touching my chest and reaching around to brush over the skin on my back.

"I missed you, Angel," Buffy said, pulling me close and resting her cheek on my chest.

"Missed you, too," I choked on the threatening tears, looking over to Spike to make sure he was okay. He looked a little hurt, or uncertain, so I caught his eye and mouthed, "Love you," at him. He broke out into a bright smile and nodded while Buffy started kissing my chest, little fluttering touches that boiled my blood. With clumsy, trembling fingers, I lifted her blouse over her head and she undid her pants, her urgency and need matching mine. Lips aching to touch her skin, I kissed down her neck, her chest, her belly, kneeling and pushing her to sit back on the bed next to Spike, who put one arm across her shoulders in front of her chest. While he hugged her close, kissing her neck and shoulders, I pulled her boots off and slipped the pants from her legs, leaving her in just her bra and panties. "So … ungh! So beautiful, darling," I found myself whispering as I looked up into her eyes for a moment. And then, over her shoulder, I caught Spike's eye and he nodded at me again, telling me everything would be fine.

When I stood, Buffy turned and crawled onto Spike, straddling his hips and kissing him while I took off my pants. Suddenly, his hands were all over her, and those damn handcuffs were still dangling from one wrist. When he buried his face in her chest, one hand on either breast, Buffy giggled. "Hullo, girls," he said, voice muffled by Buffy's skin. "Missed you somethin' fierce."

"Hey," she sighed, bringing Spike's head up so he would look at her. "Angel's not the only one I missed. Okay, Spike?"

"Aye, pet," he nodded, smiling, holding her close with one arm and reaching for me with the other. I put my hand in his, feeling the trembling maelstrom of nerves and hope in his skin and how the anxiety softened at my touch. Spike was mine. My blood, my lover, my friend, my home, my soul. And just being in contact with him made us both feel more calm, more content, to have this woman between us.

As I sat next to them, letting his hand go and brushing my fingers over Buffy's back, kissing her shoulder, I watched as she trailed a hand down Spike's arm, her fingers coming to rest on the handcuff still attached to his wrist. Distracting him with a kiss, she brought both of his arms up and fastened the cuff around the headboard again, tying his wrists as they had been when she first walked in on us. Spike chuckled and then gave a shuddering sigh as Buffy ghosted her fingers down his arms and chest, while her head turned to look for me.

"You don't want him to be able to touch you?" I asked.

"I just…" she faltered. "I feel a little safer this way."

"We won't hurt you, sweetheart," I told her, kissing her shoulder again. Sitting just behind her on Spike legs, I hugged Buffy gently and she leaned back into me, her hands gripping his upper arms.

"Could never hurt you, Buff," Spike agreed. "Not anymore, luv." They shared a long look and Buffy nodded in response, coming to some sort of silent understanding with him. I wondered what exactly had happened between them, but I knew I wasn't going to ask anytime soon. It would just be too painful to hear in any detail.

"Also," she said, and I caught the sight of her smile as she tilted back her head and looked up at me, "he just looks so hot like this."

Chuckling, I smiled at Spike and whispered in Buffy's ear, "Why d'you think I had him tied up that way in the first place?"

Buffy drew a sharp breath, and I heard her heart skip a beat as she let her hands wander down to finger lightly the bite mark on Spike's chest. "Angel did this to you?" she asked, fingers trembling as she touched him and as I scooted closer behind her, needing to touch her, to soak up the warmth pouring from every delicious inch of her skin.

"Don't fret, luv," Spike replied, smirking at me over Buffy's shoulder, "I'm a willing victim."

Buffy's hand rose up to her neck, to the scar I'd left on her skin all those years ago. "Buffy," I whispered, pulling her hand down and away from that reminder. "No one's going to bite you. I promise."

"That's why Ange and I've got each other," Spike insisted, straining up against his chains to kiss Buffy lightly on the lips.

I hugged the girl to my chest, her hand in mine over her heart as I reached out to touch Spike with my free hand. "This," I whispered in Buffy's ear as I brushed the bite on Spike's neck. "And this," I touched the one on his collarbone. "And this," my hand found the one Buffy had touched, under Spike's nipple. He groaned as I put a little bit of pressure behind my fingers. "Were all promises, one vampire to another. It makes Spike feel loved, like he belongs to me, like he's my family."

Buffy's eyes rose from where my fingers played over Spike's skin up to his eyes and he nodded, smiling sheepishly.

"What would you do," Buffy asked shyly, squeezing my hand in hers, "to make me feel loved?"

"I would do this," I replied without hesitation, kissing her scar gently, making her gasp. "And this," I kissed her neck behind her ear, and then licked her because I couldn't help it, making her squeal, almost a moan.

"This," Spike whispered, straining up again to press his lips against Buffy's, a little harder this time. I admired the way his jaw strained as he kissed her, the beautifully masculine edge of the bone jutting out against his skin. I let myself trace his jawbone as they kissed, slipping my hand to the back of his neck as I kissed Buffy's neck and shoulders. Goaded on by the gasps and murmurs of, "Angel," escaping her throat, those kisses turned into nuzzling licks and teasing nibbles.

When Buffy took her hand out of mine so that she could touch Spike's face and brush my arm at his neck, I ran the fingers of my free hand down Spike's chest and up her belly, cupping her breast. Oh, it had been awhile since I'd had my hands on a pair of these! Groaning, I unhooked her bra and got rid of it, throwing it across the room before letting both my hands return to her chest, "Oh, Buffy," I breathed in her ear. "You're so soft and warm!"

"And dripping wet," growled Spike, nuzzling in to her hand and kissing her palm before sucking a finger into his mouth. I chuckled in understanding when she groaned low in her throat, having been on the receiving end of that treatment often as of late. Though mostly it hadn't been my fingers Spike had sucked on. The sight of Spike's hollowed cheeks had me growling with desire as I ran my hands over Buffy's back, gripping her hips in my need to have her, to get inside her, and finally running my fingers under the elastic of her panties.

"Let's flip you over, kitten," Spike suggested.

"You sure?" she asked, tossing a look my way to judge my reaction.

"He needs you, Buff," Spike insisted. "He needs to see all of you, and I just want…"

"What?" I asked him.

"More," he replied, keeping Buffy's gaze with his. "More of your skin on mine, more friction on my cock, more access to your neck. Fucking more," he groaned this last word in his most aroused, pleading tone of voice. God damn, I love that tone in his voice.

Smiling, I asked Buffy, "Sound good?"

"You have no frickin' idea," she shuddered and I rolled off Spike's legs, kneeling beside them, helping Buffy turn so that she was laid with her back against Spike's chest and belly, his hard length cradled between her butt cheeks. She squealed as he nibbled at her ear and I wasted no more time slipping her panties off. Kneeling back for a moment, I enjoyed the sight of her naked and writhing against Spike, holding onto his arms to keep her body pressed against his as he sucked on her neck and ear.

Leaning forward, kneeling between their legs and pressing my whole body against Buffy, I slid a hand over Spike's head, tangling my fingers in his curly blond hair as I kissed the girl between us, tasting her lips, her tongue, again and again. Even after all these years, she tasted the same, like love and hope and power, like Buffy. My lips made their way down, planting open-mouthed kisses and little licks on the open side of her neck, on her chest, just above her rapidly beating heart. When it was just Spike and me, if he wasn't rambling and cursing, it could get so silent. But now, Buffy's rapid heartbeat added that unmistakable essence of life and pattering excitement that made me want to hold on and bury myself inside it, in the hopes that maybe some of that life would make its way into me, set my heart beating again, ease the ache of death and guilty despair.

The girl moaned as I took one of her breasts in my hand, licking around the other, working my way toward her already hard nipple. "Angel!" she moaned and the sound was too wonderful, I almost wept as I sucked her nipple into my mouth, pinching it lightly with my teeth and smiling when Buffy cried out. Even if she didn't, I remembered that one day we got to spend together, those twenty-four hours I'd spent as human. Buffy and I had made love over and over again that day, and I'd learned quickly exactly what she liked.

Knowing this, I kissed my way down further, laying my cheek on her warm belly, bathing in the scent of her skin, trembling at the way her scent made me feel so much of everything – love, desire, hope, happiness, and even a little of that ever-present guilt. And then I knelt between her legs, pushing on her legs and Spike's, guiding them further apart so I could lie between them and bury myself in her center. I nuzzled Buffy's mound, the soft curls tickling my face as I pet her stomach to keep her somewhat calm, to let her know she could trust me. Buffy smelled so good I could have inhaled her forever. And as her scent wound around and into Spike's and mine, which was still all over his skin, I felt like she was part of this thing I called home. I'd thought only Spike could fit there, but here she was, between Spike and I, not separating us but tying us together. If I could have been completely, perfectly happy about loving more than one person at a time, I would have been. But, I'd settle for content any day.

"Angel!" Buffy whined and my mouth watered at the sight and sound of her, looking down at me plaintively, wriggling against Spike as he rocked his hips below her, asking me with eyes and moans to please, please touch her. Eager to oblige, I drew my tongue from below her opening all the way up to the nub, putting just the right amount of pressure behind it, making Buffy shudder violently.

Spike whispered, "Oh, Ange, I think she liked that! Do it again." I honored his request, repeating this move and drinking her in. Without thinking, I found my hips thrusting gently into the mattress, needing to fuck her or Spike or _someone_, but I ignored my aching prick so I could pay attention to her. To _them._

I lapped at Buffy a few more times, making her shiver and moan under me, as my hand found its way to Spike. As I cupped his balls, gently brushing and tickling them, he cried out, "Bloody hell, Peaches! That's just it, luv. Drivin' me mental."

"You're already mental," I teased him, making him laugh into the skin on Buffy's neck before returning my mouth to more intimate pursuits. When I licked my way up to the top of Buffy's slit, I took her pleasure between my teeth, biting lightly and scraping my teeth the short distance from the base to the tip as I sucked, knowing this would have her caught up to me and Spike in no time.

"Oh, God!" she cried out, shaking already and vindicating my memories of her body, of just the ways she loved to be touched. I licked her long once again before drawing her pleasure into my mouth, sucking and biting harder this time. Buffy screamed, grabbing my hair, trying to either pull me closer or push me away. "Oh, Angel! I'm gonna. I need...inside."

Understanding she needed something to come against, I abandoned touching Spike in favor of pushing two fingers into her body, sucking in an aroused breath when I felt how achingly warm and sopping wet she was and how easily my fingers slid home. My eyes rolled up to meet hers as I sucked at her again, watching as she bit her lip and shook against Spike, trying not to scream out as I brought her closer and closer to where she needed to be.

"Oh, Buffy," Spike whispered to her. "You're so warm and soft and bloody sexy. I love touching you and kissing you so much. And look how Angel's got us. Let him bring you over the edge, pet. Let us love you."

"Spike!" she moaned as he sucked on her neck, nibbling with his lips and slight scrapes of his teeth. Needing to see her come undone between Spike and me, I rubbed my fingers against the one wall of her sex as I pulled another scraping pull on her clit, wrapping my free arm around her and Spike's legs in anticipation of what was about to happen.

One more sucking, scraping pull and Buffy came, screaming and yelling, "God…oh, shit, Angel! Too much, too much, too much!" She tried to escape me, but I held her leg tight, fighting to keep her pleasure going as long as I could, fighting to keep my fingers in her clenching body and my lips pressed against her mound. Spike strained against the cuffs at his wrists, and I caught the scent of his blood as he broke the skin struggling not to break them, though he looked like he wanted nothing more than to free his arms and wrap them around the girl and hold her while she came. Already he was groaning and wriggling his hips, trying to get something, anything, out of either of us. I knew exactly how he felt.

When I was convinced Buffy had gotten more than she could stand, I released her, pulling back my fingers and sitting back on my heels between their legs. Her skin was flushed in all the right places, her hair mussed and her body loose as she lay on top of Spike. He whispered in her ear, voice thick with need, "How was that, kitten? Doesn't our Angel have the most talented mouth?"

Buffy looked down at me, eyes fluttering open as she smiled at me. "Yeah," she said dreamily.

"You should see him suck cock," he said, tone somewhere between amused and aroused, which is nothing new for him. "It's a thing of beauty."

I frowned at Spike to hide my smile, pinching his inner thigh in retaliation. He jumped, yelping, and Buffy laughed, resettling herself on Spike's chest, smiling at me. Spike's indignation was followed rapidly by a humorous and loving grin. God I loved him. Even though he was nuzzling and kissing my girl, my Buffy, I loved him. Needing to be closer to Spike, I leaned forward, moving my knee so I was straddling Buffy's leg resting my weight on one arm as I lowered myself toward Spike behind her. "You want a taste, precious?" I asked him, brushing my free hand over both of their sides. I didn't know if Buffy could handle me kissing Spike, but I wanted to share this with him. I wanted to remind him how much I loved him.

"Yeah?" he asked, smiling slowly as I leaned in and kissed him, letting his tongue brush over my lips, through my mouth, tasting the juices she had soaked me in. The sight of us kissing made Buffy gasp a little, and I could tell by the way her heart thundered, that it was a good gasp, an aroused gasp. "Ohh, fuck," Spike moaned against me as our lips parted. "That might be the best thing I've ever tasted, Peaches." I kissed him again quickly as I pulled back.

Buffy surprised me by whispering, "C'mere," and drawing me into a kiss, tasting me as thoroughly as Spike had, tasting herself on my lips and tongue. My cock twitched against her leg as she moaned into my lips. "Mmm. That_ is_ good." When did this girl become such a vixen? Unable to hold back any longer, I devoured her lips with mine. Oh, I wanted her so much, I almost whined with the need, thrusting against her thigh, her hip, in a vain effort to feel something akin to fucking her, to getting inside and making love to her.

"Buffy, pet," whispered Spike. "You've two very worked up vampires on your hands here. It doesn't look like Angel can wait much longer and I know I'm not far behind him." I felt him push up against her below me, thrusting slowly and grinding against her.

"Where are you trying to say, Spike?" she asked, voice barely more than a strangled whisper around the gasps and little moans.

"I'm just sayin' for the sake of everyone's soul, we might not want to take turns."

"I thought that's where this was headed," she replied. "Two vampires, no waiting."

"Oh, God," I moaned, she wanted both of us at once! Couldn't think, just needed to be inside. Didn't matter how or why, or even who at this point. There was Spike below me, and then Buffy between us, so grown up from the girl I'd known five years ago. And so unbelievably hot. Buffy, then. Needed to make love to her, needed to let Spike make love to her, too. So I couldn't be perfectly happy. So I wouldn't lose my soul.

"So I can fuck your ass, then, pet?" Spike asked her, still rocking his hips below us.

"It's not like you haven't before," she purred, grinding back against him. Well that was a new piece of information that I couldn't say I was too happy about. But then Buffy looked up into my eyes, kissing me again. "Angel?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" Still couldn't think, not with her holding onto my shoulder like that, not with Spike's arousal bombarding me with every panting breath I couldn't help but draw.

"Would you loosen me up a bit? I know if you do it, it won't hurt at all." Her voice wavered a bit in apprehension, but such trust she was putting in me! And I was under her spell. Anything she wanted, I wanted to give to her.

"Of course," I whispered. "Whatever you need." Fumbling around, I found the bottle of liquid in the nightstand before returning to my spot between their legs, dragging one hand down Buffy's body. I would never get enough of touching her. Or of putting my mouth on her, making her writhe under me. Gently as I could in my state, I settled back between her legs, licking and sucking her in carefully, aware she was still sensitive from before. Then, opening the bottle, I coated a few fingers in the liquid, letting one finger drift downward, circling her asshole as I kept her calm and distracted by flicking her clit with my tongue. Making sure she was well moistened, I gently let one finger breach that opening. Encouraged by her moan, I pushed my finger in as slowly as I could, keeping my mouth busy on her clit as her body got used to the intrusion. When I felt Buffy relax and loosen, I pumped my finger into her in shallow waves.

"Mmm," she groaned, pushing herself down against my finger, almost wantonly.

"She likes that, doesn't she, Ange? She can hardly wait for us to get inside her."

Groaning as Spike's words, I slipped a second finger into Buffy, stretching her a little at a time. Buffy groaned deeper, turning to kiss Spike. Lips and tongues flashed together as I got her ready for him. Soon I was able to work a third finger in, stretching her out enough so Spike wouldn't hurt her. Then, I let my fingers slip from her, lifting her hips with one hand. With my other hand, I shook some more liquid out of the bottle and covered Spike's cock in it. He hissed in pleasure as I slicked him up, lining him up with Buffy's asshole, hoping whatever happened, he wouldn't hurt her.

Buffy pushed down onto him as he arched up into her, ecstasy painted on both their faces as their bodies joined. "Oh, kitten," Spike moaned. "You're so hot, so tight, I don't think I can stand it." I sat back again, watching as they writhed together, Buffy gripping Spike's arms to give him leverage as he stroked into her a little bit at a time.

"Angel," Buffy moaned, opening her eyes and reaching for me with one arm. "I need you, too."

"Oh, Buffy," I cried, laying myself out on top of her as best I could. The angle was odd, and after a few excruciatingly frustrating seconds, I got onto my knees and grabbed Spike's shoulders underneath the girl for stability. Brushing my prick against her searing hot slit several times, I just about came then and there. But no, I'd been waiting and wishing for this for too long. I was going to have some control, damn it! I felt like a teenager, and not an undead man who'd been fucking for centuries and had plenty of experience. But this was Buffy. So I marshaled my will and pushed into her in one slow thrust, going as far as I could, hitting the end of her before I was balls deep.

"Uhh," I groaned wordlessly, overwhelmed, letting my cock adjust to the feel of Buffy's body wrapped around me. "So... Oh, Buffy." I kissed her, pressing my chest against hers and running my hands up Spike's arms to let him know I hadn't forgotten about him. "How're you doin', Will?" I asked him, resting my head on his arm, beside Buffy's face.

"Never better," he groaned, and I could feel the motion of his thrusting hips below me, could feel his hard cock moving in Buffy's body. "Never ever better, luv." Except for the warm, lovely body between us, it was almost like those times when Spike and I had been too impatient to get around to anything except just thrusting against each other or one of our fists until we came. Though in place of a hand was Buffy, taking both of us in and looking like she was enjoying the hell out of it. After taking a few deep breaths and when I thought I could handle moving without coming too early, I pulled back a tiny bit, rocking myself into and out of her in shallow waves.

Buffy, hands gripping Spike's arms above their heads, changed the pace by pulling herself up off of both of us before shoving back down, fucking Spike and me at the same time. "Oh, pet," Spike moaned, "we love you so bloody much." It was incredible. She was incredible, so strong and warm, her body gripping my cock like a tight wet fist. Every time she pushed herself back onto us, Buffy moaned beautifully.

"Love you, too," she managed to pant as she pushed down yet again, making pleasure slice through my entire body as I met her thrust with my own. It was so terribly slow and perfect I couldn't tell if I wanted it to last forever, or if I wanted to speed up to get to the end. I was lost in that indecision for quite awhile as the three of us moved together.

Spike and I both groaned when Buffy increased the pace, taking us with her to the edge. I knew I shouldn't, but I wanted to lose myself in her body, in her moans, utterly and completely hers, theirs. As she shook, losing her rhythm, I kissed her mouth, her face, her neck, whatever I could reach, plunging into her again and again.

"Ange, luv," Spike whispered shakily. "Look at me, pet."

I shifted so I could see Spike's face over Buffy's shoulder, glad she was so small. But then Buffy sank her teeth into my shoulder, holding onto my flesh as she screamed her release. Her inner walls quivered around me, pulling me deeper, faster. Had to, needed to move in her. Everything, the whole world, was need, desire, love, and a burning, overwhelming _want_.

"Angel!" Spike said louder, and I opened my eyes again to look at him. "Look at me, you bastard! Keep your eyes with me." Spike reached up and kissed me as we both thrust into Buffy, him at slower rhythm that I made an effort to match, bringing her round again. "It's only me below you," he continued. "It's only my body wrapped around you."

He wanted me to forget about Buffy in those last moments so I wouldn't lose myself in her. "Keep fucking me, Angel," he ordered around Buffy's screams as we matched our paces, growing ever faster, ever more urgent together. "Keep...Ahh!" Spike came below me, pumping into Buffy and I could feel his cock twitching on the other side of her wall. Unable to wait for him to recover, I pulled Buffy into a furious series of thrusts, hitting her insides at the apex of every thrust, making her scream out for me, "Angel!" And every hit, every contact, every time I bottomed out in her, it felt like home, like love and light and acceptance. It was the answer to everything I needed, if only I could get there, stay there for more than a moment at a time.

"Angel, luv, remember the taste of me!" Spike cried, pressing his lips to mine and shoving his tongue roughly into my mouth. "Remember the taste of my blood!" A low, involuntary growl started in the back of my throat, changing pitch each time I panted uncontrollably in and out. Buffy's teeth tightened on my shoulder and she was moaning and screaming into my flesh at every thrust. "Remember taking me that first time on your desk. Remember how much I wanted you, how much I needed you," Spike continued as my growl grew louder while I buried myself in them, every second getting closer to the end. "Remember cutting and marking me, remember hurting me, remember fighting me into submission, remember making me scream your name, peaches. Remember making love to me that first night without the blood. Remember how I made you forget. Fucking stay with me you git, _please_!"

My growl erupted into a full scale roar as that last 'please' sent me over the edge and I pressed myself into them as deep as I could go, shooting my dead seed in a bittersweet release so strong I thought for a few seconds it would never end.

But then it did.

When Buffy coughed I realized I was crushing her, holding her too closely between me and Spike. Chagrined, I released my hold on my lovers, drawing back and rolling to the side. Buffy took a deep breath, letting it out with a moan, "Oh, my God," and lifted herself off Spike, rolling and landing belly first on my chest. She laughed and kissed me, letting me hug her with appropriate pressure this time.

"Are you okay, Buffy? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, of course not," she said, chuckling. "Slayer constitution and all. Though I do feel pleasantly numb."

"Good," I said, pulling her against me and kissing the top of her head, almost overcome with emotion as I remembered that day I'd taken from her since I couldn't let go of my mission and stay human for her, and how her words then were the same.

Beside us, Spike cleared his throat, rattled the handcuff chain, and raised an eyebrow at me. "Oh, I'm so sorry, hon," I said, slipping out from under Buffy and circling around the bed, grabbing the handcuff key from the nightstand. I unlocked the cuffs, lowering Spike's arms slowly as I sat down beside him. "Are you okay?" I ran my hands over the red marks around each wrist. They were bleeding in a few places, but it didn't look terrible. Further up, mottled bruises from Buffy's grip on his arms marred his pale flesh, and my demon thought it was pretty.

"No. But that was sorta the point, yeah?" he replied as I kissed his wrists, licking the blood away to help the wounds heal, letting that little bit of Spike's blood settle in my stomach, oddly comforting at the moment. "Thanks, luv," he nodded, gasping a little sob. Looking up into my eyes, brows furrowed and eyes watering, he whispered, "I wanna tell you something, pet. But if I do, you might just go off the deep end."

"What is it?" I asked, watching Buffy watch us together, a happy, satisfied look on her face.

"I won't say the word. Not right now, 'cause I can feel how happy you are and I've a promise to keep, but I…" Spike paused, leaving out what he needed to say but grasping my hand in his. "…so much, Angel. So much."

"Me, too," I replied with a smile, licking the last of his blood away before taking his neck in my hand and drawing him in for a kiss. Even with Buffy here, Spike loved me and I could taste that love on his tongue, coloring the complex flavor of his demon and his soul.

Spike chuckled into my lips and said as we parted, "Please don't say that my blood's gonna get you worked up again, Ange, cause I don't think either me or the girl could take it."

"No, I'm fine," I laughed and stowed the handcuffs and the key in the nightstand drawer before climbing over both of them and settling back down on my pillow, with Buffy between Spike and me. Pulling the blankets up over all of us, I looked into the girl's face with a content smile, noticing that Buffy was giving me an amused look.

"What?" I asked, quickly growing sleepy.

"You called Spike, 'hon'."

"Yeah. Well, he won't stop calling me 'Peaches'." Spike barked a short laugh at the truth in my reply.

"Fair enough," she shrugged, pillowing her head on my shoulder and throwing an arm and a leg over my body. Spike molded himself behind her, an arm over Buffy's waist and brushing against my belly, his face nestled behind her neck. One arm threaded under both their necks, I hugged them against me, happier than I had been in a long time. But not perfectly happy, not when I remembered all the pain I'd caused both of them in the past. At the thought, I slipped into my fanged face and nicked the thumb of my free hand, drawing blood. I let my face change back as I pressed the thumb against Spike's lips. His tongue darted out to taste my finger, which he sucked into his mouth without opening his eyes. He twirled his tongue around my thumb a few times before letting me go.

"Mmm," he said, as I drew the finger away, "good."

"What's good?" asked Buffy, sleepily. I took her hand in mine; holding it against my chest.

Spike settled back against her, mumbling, "Angel still has his soul."

"How do you know?" Buffy rolled her eyes up to look at me. "Besides the lack of murder in the past few minutes."

"He can taste it in my blood, darling," I said, almost asleep. "I won't leave you this time. Never again."

* * *

I woke to morning light filtering in through the windows and Spike screaming in pain. Why does he always have to get visions while we're sleeping? Buffy was sitting up with Spike's head in her lap, looking scared and confused. So last night hadn't been a dream. Buffy was still here with us, wearing my shirt with its missing buttons that Spike had discarded on the floor when he'd undressed me. And the whole room smelled of her, sweet and feminine compared to Spike's masculine musk underneath. We would have to talk about what happened, about what I let happen. But not now, not with a mission from the big guys upstairs.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked, shaking my shoulder to make sure I was awake. But the volume of Spike's groans and screams made sleep impossible.

"He's having a vision," I grunted as I sat up, putting one of my hands in his so he could grip it against the pain. He grabbed onto me, just about cracking the bones as he squeezed, shunting some of the pain off onto me. Fuck, it was bad, about the worst I'd seen him. "What do you see, Spike?"

He grunted in response, arching his back against the pain, tendons in his neck straining. This was taking too long, way too long. I pulled him from Buffy's lap, putting him on his side in front of me. Then, I lay out behind him, wrapping my arms around him, one hand still clasped in mine, legs lined up along one another. The more skin contact he had, the less he would feel the pain. We curled up together, riding out the vision.

Buffy caught my eye over Spike's shoulder, holding out a hand, asking permission to touch him. Figuring it could only help, I nodded to her, watching as she scooted closer to us, brow furrowed as she pet his hair. "I hate seeing him like this," she confessed.

"Not too fond of it myself," I replied, kissing the back of Spike's neck.

"There was a reason," she sighed, "that I had those government guys get rid of his chip."

Oh, yes. This wasn't the first time Buffy had seen Spike in this much pain. He'd told me about that chip in his brain malfunctioning, zapping him randomly. And Buffy had ordered it gone for good, trusting his soul would keep him in line.

The vision went on and on for quite a long time. Usually it's just a few seconds, maybe a minute, but this vision lasted for what felt like forever. Eventually, I twisted my head so I could wrap blunt teeth around the back of Spike's neck, squeezing gently. I felt his body relax into me, like a kitten in its mother's grasp, but still the vision continued. As I held him with my arms and legs and teeth, I intentionally breathed a slow, steady rhythm over the skin on his neck. Gradually he stilled and stopped whimpering, going completely limp in my arms. I released my hold on his neck, asking, "Spike?" afraid he'd passed out.

"It's so...ugh," he said, finally opening his eyes and stirring in my arms. "You two aren't gonna like it."

"We won't like what, Spike?" asked Buffy.

"Ange, luv, d'ya still have that cone of silence spell?"

"What spell?" Was I supposed to know what he was talking about?

"That anti-spying spell from the first time we..."

Oh. The first time we'd slept together — since getting souls, that is. "Yeah, I've still got it."

"Good," he said. "We'll need it for this one."

* * *

_Hey! A cliffhanger! The continuation of the story will appear here in Chapter 9: Power Play - Part 1. I hope to work on that one over the weekend, so we'll see how it goes._

_I guess I also want to say thanks to Happyangsty and Afriel for crowning me the "Queen of Spangel" fiction. I hope adding Buffy to the mix didn't make you guys eager to revoke the title._

_As always, I'd love to hear from you!_


	9. Power Play Part 1

_A/N: You're going to hate what happens in this chapter. But please, just trust me._

_**Oh, and I just posted a chapter last night, so make sure you don't miss that one.  
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* * *

  
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Power Play – Part 1

"Well, I s'pose this is it, mates," Spike said, sticking out his hand so I could shake it. Instead, I crossed my hands over my chest and frowned at him. This wasn't right, at all! "Don't look so sad, Charlie-boy. You can come visit if you'd like, right, pet?"

At his side, Buffy looked up at him with a smile. "Yeah," she said, turning back to face me. "You're all welcome in Rome whenever you'd like."

Shaking my head, I pulled Spike away from the others, asking, "What're you doin', man? This chick just shows up and off you go? What about Angel?" We both looked through the glass into big man's office, where he was determinedly looking out the window, like he couldn't watch as Buffy and Spike left together.

"What about him?" Spike asked, but I could tell he was hiding how he felt about the other vampire behind that attitude of his. I'd only known about him and Angel for the past couple of weeks, and even though I was having trouble adjusting to how they acted around each other now, I could tell that Angel was much happier than he had been in a long time. Spike filled that hole in Angel's life that had been empty since Cordelia disappeared. But now, the blond vamp was leaving! It just seemed cruel.

"Aren't you supposed to get the visions for him?" I asked, making it about the work and not about their relationship. Though I could see how Angel relaxed in Spike's presence, that didn't mean I understood them at all. Findin' out your boss is into dudes as well as chicks? Just takes a little while to get used to, I guess.

"If the Powers gimme a ring, I'll be sure to pass on the message," Spike assured me, turning to go back to where Buffy was talking with Fred and Lorne.

No, this couldn't happen. No one else who was still alive remembered how bad things could get when Angel got hurt. No one else remembered how cold and ruthless he got after Darla was turned by Drucilla. And though I'm pretty sure he loved her, he hadn't been _in love_ with Darla, know what I mean? But for some insane reason, he _was_ in love with Spike, who was trying to leave town, leave the frickin' country! Instead of letting him go, I caught Spike's arm and turned him back, hissing, "How could you do this to him? How could you leave him like this? I thought you were one of the good guys, Spike. I thought you cared about him."

"Peaches and I were just a fling, Chuck, nothing more," he lied, not hiding the deception very well. "And now that Buffy knows I'm alive, I've got to go back to where I belong."

"You belong here," I insisted.

"You know what?" he snarled, pulling his arm away from me harshly. "Now I'd rather you didn't come for a visit. You can just stay here being all self-righteous like the ponce." He pointed to Angel's back and returned to Buffy's side, putting his arm around her shoulder as if to prove something to me, or himself.

I watched from the spot where Spike had left me standing as he hugged Fred and shook Lorne's hand, saying his goodbyes before following Buffy to the elevator and out of the building. Fred turned to me with a disappointed look in her eyes and Lorne was frowning, making that ugly green mug of his even worse.

Sighing, I waved them off as I approached Angel's door, going in without bothering to knock. Standing behind Angel quietly, I waited for a few seconds for him to say something. Something that would explain what the hell was going on. I knew they'd been fighting about Buffy before they went to Rome, but when they came back, everything seemed fine again. The day after, when Angel and I went to go check on the Capo de Famiglia's resurrection, he seemed so content underneath the rush of catching up with all the work. He'd smiled more than a few times during the course of the day, so I'd figured he and Spike had made up. But Buffy had showed up, and now Spike was gone, leaving all of us and going halfway across the world with Angel's girl. This would not end well.

When Angel didn't say anything, I stepped up beside him and asked, "Are you okay?"

He nodded, sniffing once, his jaw clenched the worst I'd ever seen it.

"Are you crying, man?" I asked, wondering if maybe he needed a comforting hand on the shoulder or something. But that would just turn awkward, wouldn't it? Maybe I should have sent Fred in here instead, but she didn't seem to know about Angel and Spike being together, even though Illyria knew full well. And Lorne would just infuriate Angel further. If there was anything we wanted to avoid at this point, it was angry Angel. If he got it into his head again that nothing and no one mattered, having a place like Wolfram and Hart at your disposal could go a long way to causing the destruction Angelus loved so much.

"No," Angel insisted, wiping his eyes. "I'm not a crier. I don't cry. I brood."

"Sure," I nodded, staring out the window with him. "But if you wanted to cry, having your current leave with your ex is as good a reason as any."

"They can do whatever they want," he said, his voice turning cold, but far from lacking in emotion. Crap. This was not good. But I couldn't think of how to make it any better. Maybe we just had to brace for the shit storm ahead and hope it didn't mean the end of the world.

"Sure," I replied, leaving him be for the moment and crossing the lobby to my office. I couldn't say I had been completely cool with Angel's relationship with Spike, what with the whole Angelus factor and the ick factor, but this was beyond the pale. I'd never believed Spike would be the one to leave first. He always seemed so devoted, if insulting and foul-mouthed. But I supposed Fred and I had been pretty good before that incident with her professor, when I became a murderer for her. Buffy's arrival had been the something that broke Angel and Spike apart, just like that incident between me and Fred. I didn't know what had happened the night before between the three of them, but it must have been ugly.

I found the glass and the bottle in my desk, pouring out a good portion of the scotch before putting the bottle back. If things were going to go to fuck with Angel, maybe I could just keep drinking until I didn't care anymore. I'd been doing this too much lately – drinking the guilt away. Trying to ignore how sick to my stomach working at this place made me feel. Giving babies away to demon cults so they could be sacrificed a few years later? I hated it. I hated Angel for letting it happen. I hated Spike for breaking Angel's heart, for joining the team and then just abandoning all of us. I hated Fred for clinging to that demon in her brain like she was the answer to everything. I hated Illyria for killing Wesley, and I hated Wesley for dying and leaving me to try fixing this god damned mess on my own.

And I hated myself for so many things, but mostly for putting myself before everyone else and allowing Illyria in, allowing Wes' death.

I finished off my drink, cringing at the fiery taste of the alcohol. I knew I really shouldn't go down this path, given what had happened to my mom, but I just needed something to get through the day. Very few of the cases that came across my desk these days were ones I could actually stand completing – mostly those that had nothing to do with demons or murderers or evil corporations. Which left just about nothing.

* * *

After saying goodbye to Spike and noticing that Charles had taken the responsibility for talking to Angel, I found my way back to the lab. Angel had always been so in love with Buffy, and to know that Spike was back with her? I'm sure he was heartbroken. Working with us, getting things straightened out between them, it had seemed that Spike had grown into Angel's good friend, always teasing him with a smile and making him laugh. I was going to miss the Angel that laughed. I was going to miss Spike and his bright hair, his loud voice, his swishy coat. Over the year, Spike had become my friend too, and I was sad to see him go.

It seemed like odd timing, since Lindsey had said we were on the way to a major showdown with the Senior Partners – The Apocalypse. I'd thought Spike would want to help. But since Illyria had been in my head, I missed out on a lot of what had been happening around here for the past two months. When I let Illyria have total control, everything we experienced felt fuzzy to me, muffled almost, until I decided to pay attention again. For quite a while, I hadn't been paying very close attention. Maybe the end of the world wasn't as close as Lindsey thought it was? If Gunn knew the situation better than I, I was glad to let him be the first to talk to Angel. I'd catch up with the vamp later, after he'd had a few more hours to process.

Walking into the lab, I inhaled deeply, smiling as I recognized that peculiar mixture of chemicals and machinery that was more reminiscent of home than the apartment I had downtown. There was the mass spec, and over there was the HPLC, and huddled over that pile of parts in the corner was my one and only employee. I'd just hired a new lab manager, Mary, someone with a good resume and no evil leanings, and she was still rearranging things since pieces of the bomb Illyria had built were disassembled all over the place. I had given Mary the task of trying to figure out how to classify and reorganize all the components, safely.

"I can't believe you almost blew us up," I told Illyria, speaking quietly as I closed the door to my office.

"I did what I thought necessary," Illyria replied, using my voice and mouth to her own purposes as I let her respond. I wondered if our conversations would ever become entirely internal. Because right now, talking to myself in two different voices, I looked pretty crazy to anyone who didn't know what was going on. "You shouldn't have interfered with my efforts."

"If I hadn't, we'd be a pretty pink mist on the rubble that used to be Wolfram and Hart."

"Such an outcome would be preferable to this existence."

"Aw, Lyrie," I prodded her, "sick of me already?"

"You mean nothing to me."

I chuckled. "Well, that may be so, but don't forget – I'm the one that convinced Angel to stop trying to get rid of you. Even though you tried to blow him up." I wasn't even quite sure why I'd told Angel to leave Illyria with me. I had a suspicion it was because I didn't want to be in this big, overactive brain all by myself. If Illyria was there too, it was easier not to think about everything else. It was easier not to wallow in myself, in my misery over Wes' death. He was gone, and it was all my fault. So if letting a demon inhabit my brain made it easier not to go crazy and start proving mathematical theorems on the walls just to make sense of everything, it seemed like a good way to cope.

"If you had the proper respect for me, you would stay buried and let me have leave of this body."

"Sure," I muttered, sitting down at my computer and opening my mail. Reading quickly, I told Illyria, "It looks like there've been reports of a demon killing people near an old abandoned amusement park."

"Through your memories, I have learned to read your human language," she scoffed. "I know what it says."

"Like it or not," I decided, "we're looking into this."

"Why? Let the demon have his fun."

"Because, Lyrie," I explained once again, "that's what we do. Help the helpless. Fight the monsters because we're the ones that can."

"I would not be opposed to a fight, if you could call it that."

"You know what kind of demon we're up against?" I asked, wondering if Illyria would make herself useful for once.

"The breed is irrelevant. Our strength is matched by very few in this dimension."

"And if the demon came from another dimension?"

"It makes little difference," she scoffed, tilting my head as she stared at the potted ivy growing on top of my filing cabinet.

Unable to turn my head away, I sighed, "What's so interesting about the plant?"

"In this form I cannot hear its song. The world as you experience it is almost as cold and lifeless as the rock you call the moon."

Finally tearing our eyes away from the plant, I printed out the report and stood. Angel would have to know about these attacks. Maybe it would even cheer him up! Having a new case to work on, getting back to what we're really supposed to be doing. Plus, hitting things always seemed to make him feel better.

"Your half-breed king is distressed," Illyria noted at the thought of going to see Angel.

"Well yeah, his best friend ran off with the love of his life. Takes time to get over that!" I shook my head with a chuckle. As much as Illyria knew about magic and the flow of time (which was really quite interesting and completely negated the theory of relativity), she knew very little about human relationships. "But one cure for a broken heart," I said hopefully, "is a mission to help others."

"To aid the helpless," Illyria scoffed disdainfully as we shuffled together a report for Angel, nifty file folder and everything.

"_Help_ the helpless," I insisted. "It's catchier!"

"I loathe you."

"Right back at'cha, Lyrie," I said with a smile. No sense in bending backward for her anymore. Not when fighting with the demon in my brain helped keep my thoughts away from the pull of diving whole hog into theorems or from certain people who were dead. Gone. No more. Damn it, Wesley! I'm gonna kill you for dying on me like that.

"This man you think of," Illyria goaded, "he is not undead and therefore cannot be killed again."

"Well maybe we'll find a way of undestroying his soul, and then when he's back, I'll kill him."

"Will you let me do it?"

"No!" I huffed through the hallways away from the lab and towards Angel's office. "I was just trying to feel better, Illyria. If by some miracle, Wesley does come back, I forbid you from killing him."

"I do not bow to orders from scum like you."

"Yeah, whatever," I sighed, watching as a group of people left Angel's conference room, waiting for the room to clear so I could bring this case to our fearless, if morose, ruler.

* * *

_  
Don't kill me! I promise, there's a plan!_

_I had more of this written than I remembered, so I was able to post again quickly. I'll set out now to write the next chapter so I can get you closer to the point where things will make sense._


	10. Power Play Part 2

Power Play – Part 2

A few days later, Angel called me out to the lobby so we could meet our newest client. I hadn't even read the case file, because I really didn't care to know what we were getting into before I had to. Angel's eyes weren't red with tears anymore, but he did look like there was some rage boiling under the surface.

"What are you wearing?" he hissed as we waited for the client.

I looked down, remembering, only since he'd reminded me, that I'd burned all my suits in a bout of drunken guilt. So lately, I'd been wearing my normal street clothes. "Got a problem with it, Boss?" I asked him.

"We're meeting a U.S. Senator today, Gunn," he replied angrily. "You could show just a little bit of respect."

"Got no respect to show," I replied, keeping my eyes forward. He seemed to want a punching bag rather than a sympathetic ear, so I figured it best to just look straight ahead and get through this.

"If I didn't need you for this, I swear…" he snarled.

"What?" I snapped. "Gonna send me away next? 'Cause I don't wanna wear a stupid suit?" I knew it was a low blow, but I couldn't help but poke the bear. Not when he was staying silent on the touchy subject that was Spike's departure.

"I didn't send him away," Angel growled, turning and pacing back toward his office before composing himself and stalking back. "That son of a bitch left_ me_."

"Uh-huh," I replied. "Wonder why?"

"Just shut up, Gunn," he said as the elevator doors opened. "Help me with this case and keep your opinions to yourself."

"Whatever you say…" I told him, giving him a look that said while I was backing down now, this wasn't the last time we'd talk about it. If I could goad him into talking about it, into saying what he was brooding about out loud, maybe I could keep him from going Punisher on everyone.

Hamilton stepped from the elevator, escorting a well-dressed middle aged business woman and a younger man in a suit. Something felt off about him, something about the way he moved.

"Ah, Angel," said Hamilton, placing his hand on the woman's back to show her towards us. "I'd like you to met senator Elizabeth Dearborn."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Senator," Angel greeted her, almost deferentially, shaking her hand in his. Angel was getting weirder and weirder. He hates sucking up to people and loves just pissing on anyone authoritative. And now he was kissing this lady's ass? Strange.

"The pleasure is mine, Angel," the Senator replied, reeking of upper class congeniality.

Angel gestured to me, "This is my associate, Charles Gunn."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Gunn." She took my hand, shaking with a firm politician's grip.

"And this," she said, pointing to the man at her side, "is my personal – "

"Vampire," Angel finished for her. Ah, that's what was off about him! Damn undead.

"Oh, that's right!" Senator Dearborn nodded. "I always forget your kind can … sense each other."

Angel nodded, leaving a breath of space before he changed the topic. "I'm surprised you came to us with this problem, Senator."

"Oh, I've had dealings with this firm for a long time. Back to the days when Holland Manners was in charge."

"You'll find," I spoke up, "we run things a little differently now."

"I'm sure," she said politely, meeting my eyes for an uncomfortable length of time.

Angel cleared his throat, sweeping an arm toward the conference room and saying, "Shall we?" As he turned, he called out, "Harmony, would you get us some coffee?"

"Oh, no coffee for me, thanks. But," she smiled and pointed to her aide again, "I think Ernesto could use some blood."

"Virgin if you have it," the vamp requested. Damn, what kind of business did Manners run here? Asking for virgin blood like it was a fucking cola? God, please help me get through this.

Harmony looked to Angel for instruction since all consumption of human blood had been banned from the building when we took over. Angel turned to the Senator, "We've got a strict policy of no human blood."

"If you want," Harmony offered. "I could get you something in a rodent. We have a nice, unassuming vole…"

"Surely an exception can be made," Hamilton cut in, "for the Senator's aide."

"Look," I said. "I don't know how things worked around here when Holland Manners was in charge, but –"

Angel held up a hand to cut me off. "Harmony," he said, looking around me toward her, "go to the lab and see if the blood bank has something suitable."

"Sure thing, Boss," she replied, looking about as confused as I felt. She turned to go follow his orders, but turned back after half a second. "While I'm there," she said, trying to sound innocent and persuasive, "can I have a teeny, tiny…"

"No," Angel answered her definitively, making her pout before she flounced away. Turning his attention back to the Senator, Angel continued, "Now, let's discuss what Wolfram and Hart can do for you."

I shook my head at Angel's words. Never before had he really included himself as part of Wolfram and Hart. It was always this separate entity, something he controlled, but was never really a part of. This was getting bad, and I wondered if I would know when to call it quits and get out before I went down this path with him.

In the conference room, everyone got settled and the Senator's aide, Ernesto, handed me a videotape, which I popped into the TV at the side of the room. It showed a political ad for the Senator's rival, Henry Vernon, and it was full of disgustingly sweet wholesome family values and meaningless rhetoric.

When it was done, the Senator said, "See? This whole 'your home is his work' angle is genius and it's really hurting us at the polls."

"The add is playing very well with the female population," the aide mentioned, taking the tape back from me and sitting down next to his boss. I sat across from them, trying not to imagine plunging a stake into this vamp's heart over and over again.

"And those voters were _mine_," Dearborn complained. "I had a lock on the chick vote. I didn't crawl my way up from hell and get installed in a human body to lose to some…_pedophile_!"

"He's a pedophile?" I asked, flipping through the case file in front of me for some indication that this Vernon guy was something other than what he seemed to be. But there was nothing.

"Not yet," the Senator said with a smile that reminded me of an evil cartoon villain. "But you're going to make him into one."

"What?" I asked, looking to Angel for some indication that his outrage would match mine, but he was as calm as a cucumber. What the fuck was going on?

"I've heard you've got some great brainwashing facilities here. Hell, you could even make him think he's actually a monster. What was that doctor's name?" she asked, turning to her aide as I watched the proceedings, jaw clenched tightly.

"Sparrow," the aide replied.

"That's right, "she nodded. "Sparrow. We want him, if at all possible."

Having had enough, I stood up, leaning over the table to meet the Senator's eyes. "Look, Holland Manners doesn't live here anymore. We're not helping you ruin a good man's life!"

"Gunn," Angel warned me off, a growl in his voice.

"No, Angel!" I cried. "I don't know what's going on here, but I can't let this one go. No way."

"Fine," he said, standing up and grabbing me by the arm to push me from the room. "I thought I told you," he yelled as he shoved me out into the lobby and closed the door behind us, "to keep your opinions to yourself."

"And I thought I don't care, Angel," I snarled, pulling my arm out of his grip. "I know you're hurting, man, but you can't seriously go along with this, can you? It's the complete opposite of what we've been trying to accomplish here."

"Gunn," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose and wetting his lips like he was gearing up for a hell of an argument. "You're not seeing the big picture!"

"Well, why don't you explain it to me, then? 'Cause it looks to me like history's repeating here, Angel. What are you gonna do, fire me again?"

"If I have to," he replied, about ready to slug me instead.

"Look at yourself, man! Let's just talk about what happened with your boyfriend so you can put it behind you. Maybe then we can figure out how not to end up like them!" I pointed to the conference room, where the Senator and Ernesto were probably hearing all of this, not to mention the half of the firm that was passing through the lobby.

"Spike wasn't my _boyfriend_," Angel snarled in my ear, pushing me toward a more deserted hallway. "He was a _mistake_."

"Bullshit, Angel," I replied, thinking of all the instances I'd seen them together since I caught them in a very compromising position that one night. Every time I'd seen them, they'd seemed more and more attached to one another. Holding conversations in a look, touching whenever possible, actually _laughing_ at each other's jokes. "_Bull_. _Shit_."

"And besides," he continued. "This has nothing to do with him, and everything to do with the plan."

"Which is what, exactly? Keep pretending to be evil until it finally happens and we can stop caring about the end of the world? About anyone but ourselves?"

"I don't have to listen to this," he shook his head, pushing my shoulder so I slammed back into the wall, not gently. "I'm going back to work. You go work on something else, and leave the Senator alone!"

"There's nothing else to work on, Angel!" I cried after him, rubbing my shoulder.

"There's a mile-high stack of paperwork on your desk," he called back, "that begs to differ. Harmony!" he got the girl's attention. "Call the legal department and tell them to send up someone qualified to work this case."

"Right away, Boss!" She sounded so excited to be given a task.

"Fucking vampires," I muttered to myself, shaking my head.

"Heard that!" Angel's voice carried from the doorway of the conference room and around the corner to where he'd left me standing.

"Well, fuck you, too," I said just as softly as I crossed the lobby, heading for my desk and another glass of scotch. "Hear that, did you?" I asked, but there was no response. Once in my office, I slammed the door and went straight for the liquor. No, this definitely wasn't going to end well.

Before I'd even taken a sip of my drink, Lorne cracked open the door and slipped in, saying, "Heyyy, pumpkin."

"Don't 'pumpkin' me, Lorne. I'm really not in the mood."

"Yeah, I see that," he said, nodding to the drink in his hand. "Got another one of those for me?"

"Sure," I sighed, digging a second glass out of the cabinet in my desk and pouring him a drink. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Green."

"Hey," he scoffed, taking the drink and sitting down in one of the chairs in front of my desk, "all's forgiven. But I could hear that row from down in the entertainment division, so I thought I'd come see how you're doin', sport."

"I'm okay," I said, sinking down into my chair and taking a sip of my drink. "I'm just worried about him. And what Spike's leaving is gonna do to him."

"Yeah," he replied sadly. "I'm wondering if this isn't the bad ending I saw when I first read them together."

"How bad are we talkin'? Temper tantrums in the supermarket or end of the world?"

Lorne chuckled nervously. "Ah, ha ha. More the latter than the former, I'm afraid."

"That's what I was afraid of," I replied with a sigh. "The freakin' Apocalypse is comin' up, ready to swallow us whole, and our fearless leader is freaking out over his love life. Do you know what he's agreeing to do for a Wolfram and Hart client, right now?"

"Well, guessing from that look, I don't think I want to know," he nodded, sipping on his drink again. "Sheesh, this isn't even the good stuff. Not that I'm particularly fond of the good stuff, in any case." He shrugged.

"Whatever. I found it in Wesley's office."

"So this is what it's come to, eh, Gunn?" Lorne frowned, leaning back in his chair and looking past me out the window. "Drinking a dead man's liquor while avoiding our evil jobs and our evil employees and our less than goody-two-shoes leader?"

"Yep," I finished off my drink. "I just hope we won't have to take Angel down for his own good."

"Isn't that going a little overboard?" he asked me, leaning forward in his chair to set his glass down on my desk.

"You haven't seen him like this, Lorne. I have. And if he's headed where I think he is, staking Angel might become the last option between us and the end of the world."

"Geez, and here I thought it was going to be a normal Thursday." Lorne shook his head, and then drew a sharp breath. "You don't think its Angelus in there, do you?"

"I dunno," I sighed. "Buffy _was_ here. But I can't imagine either her or Spike leaving us to deal with Angelus on our own."

"If they even knew," he pointed out. "Angelus is quite the actor when he wants to be. Hell, I could get him an audition with Spielberg. If he wouldn't, you know, rip out my lungs before then."

"No, I don't think it's him," I decided, though there was a niggling doubt still making my brain itch with the possibility. "This is just Angel without the mission. Aren't you so thrilled to meet him?"

"Yeah, kiddo. Ever so," Lorne sighed, taking up his glass when I refilled it and joining me in a pointless toast.

* * *

_A/N: I'm actually having more fun writing Gunn than I thought I would. And writing angry Angel is always a blast!_

_Don't forget to review! I'd really like to know any thoughts you have about either Gunn's or Fred's POV, so I can incorporate your suggestions.  
_


	11. Power Play Part 3

Power Play – Part 3

"Angel," I called to him as I approached him to give him the Funland report.

"Fred," he greeted me. "Have you met Senator Dearborn?"

"No!" I cried, turning to the woman at his side with a smile. I tried to let my smile be bright, eager, even going so far as exclaiming, "I always love meeting famous people!" But, thinking about how Illyria had seemed so ready to kill Wes, _again_, should the opportunity present itself, had me losing my grip on the content persona I tried to present to everyone. I supposed only Illyria knew how unhappy I was deep down. Trying to shake it off, I pulled my smile tighter and shook the lady's hand when she offered it, saying, "One time, I met Michael Douglas!"

"Oh, the actor?" she asked, a kind smile on her face. Politicians always get that one down first, don't they?

"Actor? Oh, no," I laughed. "I meant Michael R. Douglas, of Stony Brook University. He's one of my favorite modern physicists. His work on superstring theory has really influenced major portions of my own work."

"Oh," she said, looking to Angel, probably for further explanation. Sometimes normal people just don't get me.

"This is Winifred Burkle," he said, drawing my hand away from the Senator's. "She's the head of our science department."

"Oh? Will you be supervising Doctor Sparrow's work?"

"What? Who?" I asked, confused. Was I supposed to know what she was talking about?

"No, no," Angel insisted. "I'll be supervising that case myself. Don't worry, Senator," he said, shaking her hand, and then that of the aide at her side, "you'll have nothing to worry about."

"Thank you, Angel," she nodded. "You've made yourself a very powerful ally in Washington today."

"The pleasure is all mine," Angel nodded again, watching as they left to the elevators.

"Washington?" I asked, following Angel as he returned to his office.

"Yeah, you got a problem with that, too?" He sounded angry, though I didn't know who'd gotten under his bonnet most recently.

"No," I told him carefully. "No problem with Washington." I watched him shuffle papers around on his desk restlessly for a few seconds before stepping closer and asking, "Angel, are you okay?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Fred," he sighed, meeting my eyes only very briefly. His face and voice softened as he told me, "Not now in any case." Then, Angel took a folder out of his desk and picked up the phone. "Did you come in here for a reason? 'Cause I've got work to do…"

"Oh, right!" I said, opening the file in my hands and laying it out in front of him. "There's been reports of another death at Funland."

"What?"

"That old abandoned amusement park. I can't say yet for sure, but this is the second death in as many nights, and it looks like the work of a demon to me."

"Why are you showing me this?" he demanded, angry with me again.

"Because it's what we do!" I replied, getting angry right back. "Fight the good fight, help the helpless? I thought you'd like something to go hit."

"Thanks for thinking of me, Fred, really," he said, voice almost sarcastic, closing the folder and handing it back to me. "But I don't have time for this right now. Keep an eye on it for a few days, huh?"

"A few days? Angel, whatever this thing is, it's been killing every night! In a few more days, a few more people are going to die."

"So what?" he said, clenching his jaw. "People die. People _leave_. All the time, Fred. It's not something we have to worry about, not when we have to focus on the big picture."

"Are you sure you're okay?" This was about what had happened with Spike and Buffy, wasn't it? He said he didn't want to talk about it yet, but I couldn't help but ask again, since he seemed so helplessly non-Angel-like.

"I'm busy, Fred. I don't have time to be anything other than okay." With that, he put the phone to his ear and started dialing, ignoring my presence in the room.

"Okay," I said walking away. Yelling back at him, I added, "Just let me know when you're ready to talk about it."

"Don't hold your breath," he said, then turned his chair around and started speaking into the phone as someone on the other end picked up.

* * *

I found Fred in Wes' office, pouring over a book on his desk. "Hey," I said in greeting, coming around the desk to take a look over her shoulder.

"Hi, Charles," she responded absently, obviously involved in whatever she was reading.

"Haven't seen you much in the past few days," I said, waving my hand in front of her face to get her attention.

"What?" She looked up at me, blinking. "Oh! Hi, Charles. When did you get here?"

I laughed, a welcome feeling that I hadn't had enough of lately. "Ten seconds ago when you said 'hi' the first time."

"I did? Oh, sorry," she said, turning back to whatever she'd been reading.

"Fred?" I asked her, pulling the book away from her and kneeling down beside her chair so she would look at me. "When's the last time you went home?"

"I don't know," she said, trying to pull the book out of my hands again. "What day is today?"

"It's Tuesday, Fred. I went to the lab looking for you and Mary said she hasn't seen you since Friday morning."

"I've been working a case," she replied, still trying to get the book out of my hands.

I stood up, taking the book with me and walking away a few paces so I could read it without Fred trying to grab it back from me. "Borritz demons?" I asked her.

"Shh! Angel doesn't want us to sweat the small stuff."

"And Borritz demons are small stuff? It says here they've got a poisonous bite and are keen on killing the homeless."

"Last night a teenage girl, a runaway, died," she told me, standing up and taking the book from me again. "I'm fairly certain at this point a Borritz demon was involved."

"And Angel's the reason you're hiding out in Wesley's office, using his books instead of the fancy computer in your lab?" I scoffed, "Yeah, I've been hiding in a bottle of scotch, myself."

"Even though this demon has been killing people every day for the last week, Angel doesn't want to hear about it. Since Spike left, all he cares about is the big picture." Fred huffed and sat down at Wesley's desk again.

"He gave you the 'big picture' speech too, huh?" I sighed, sitting down across from her.

"Yes. Several times," Fred muttered, turning back to her book.

"How is reading about the demon going to help us convince Angel we need to take care of it?"

Fred opened her mouth to respond, but then gasped instead, her eyes still fixed on the page in front of her.

"What is it?" I asked, leaning over the desk to get a clearer view of whatever had caught her attention. The words on the left-hand page were slowly disappearing and being replaced with something else. "You didn't tell it to do that?"

"No," she shook her head as new words appeared. "You are looking in the wrong place," Fred read out loud.

"That's what I'm sayin'," I scoffed, watching as the words on the right-hand page were replaced with a black circle, pointy outcroppings all around it. "Okay," I said, drawing my brows in confusion, "what does that mean?"

"I don't know," Fred muttered before looking up to the ceiling for a moment and nodding. "Illyria doesn't know either."

"I thought you had to talk out loud to one another," I pointed out.

"We've worked out a system for simple yes and no questions," she explained, setting the book down and getting a pen and some paper out of the desk drawers. "It wastes less time." Quickly, she sketched out the pattern shown in the book, though her circle ended up fairly oblong. Fred may be many things, but artist has never been one of them.

"It's probably a wasted effort, but could you go ask Angel about this?" Fred handed me the drawing, standing up and heading for the office door.

"He doesn't want to talk to me," I tried to tell her, but when she turned around, her eyes were and eerie blue.

"Your king wants to talk to us even less, dark-skinned one." She turned to go again, and I followed her.

"And what are you up to, princess?" I asked Illyria, still creeped out by her appearance.

"Winifred and I have come to an agreement," she told me as we walked up the stairs and toward her lab.

"And what agreement is that?"

"It is time to ignore Angel's commands and rid his kingdom of the demon he thinks unworthy of his time."

"This Borritz demon? Why would you help Fred with that?"

"I wish to do violence. Since she will not permit violence toward your kind, I must settle for killing demons she considers 'evil'."

"Do you, uh, want some help with that?"

"No, Charles," Fred replied, stopping just outside the door to turn and look at me. "Illyria and I will be fine by ourselves. Time-bending and super-strength are good for something, anyways. You need to figure out what _this_ means," she insisted, tapping the paper still in my hand.

"Why? We don't even know who sent that message."

"Because it's better than doing nothing, isn't it? It's better than letting another innocent person die because we didn't look into everything that came across our desk right away. Now, I don't know if you've been paying attention, but Angel's been getting worse and worse every day."

"Yeah, Fred," I replied, "I had noticed. First was the senator, and then he started taking all these secret meetings with Hamilton, and just today, I saw Harmony had him scheduled for racquetball with an actual devil!"

"That is weird. I didn't know Angel _played_ racquetball."

"You're sure I can't come help you? I haven't been out on the street, fighting the good fight, in far too long."

Fred's posture changed, her eyes flickering to blue again. "Charles. I have included modern projectiles in my combat style. The risk of your damage in my presence is too great to justify."

"Did you just say you cared about me?" I asked, smiling a little as I teased her.

"I find you most pleasing to the eye. Your death would be unfortunate."

"Okayyy," I said, suddenly realizing why Spike had been so freaked out when Illyria had come on to him. She might look like a human woman, but she sure didn't feel like one when you met her eyes. "I'll go work on this then," I pointed to my sheet of paper and left Illyria in Wesley's office, really hoping she wouldn't get Fred into trouble with this mission of hers. I wondered again whether I should follow her anyway and give back up, but I really didn't relish the thought of being shot by an ex-demon god on accident.

* * *

As Illyria and I approached Funland on foot, leaving our Wolfram and Hart company car parked outside the fenced-off area, I wondered, "What's really going on with Angel?

"I have seen this happen with many rulers," Illyria responded as we walked through the abandoned amusement park. All the rides were shut down and rusty. Most of the buildings had broken windows and were covered in graffiti. And there was a homicidal demon somewhere on the loose. I should have been scared, but I wasn't. Illyria made sure of that. "Angel has been corrupted," she continued

"What?" I asked, keeping my gun drawn and my eyes open. "He hasn't been corrupted. He's just sad."

"Because his lover left with another?" Illyria snapped our head to the side, after a small noise that turned out to be nothing.

"Yeah," I whispered, continuing further and wondering why again I hadn't let Charles come with us. "Angel should be happy Buffy is still alive. Some of us aren't so lucky."

"There are many reasons for corruption," Illyria told me. "And once it has started it always goes the same. Now that Angel has realized what true power means, he will only crave more."

"No, he won't," I insisted. "This is just a bad patch. We'll all help him get back to fighting the good fight."

Illyria stopped us again, taking a few steps towards a ramshackle carnival game before turning away. "Angel has already begun pushing you away. He will not suffer intimates for much longer."

"Then we'll just have to try harder to get to him. He's a good person, Illyria. He'll –"

Illyria snapped my mouth shut as we climbed through the planks of an old wooden roller coaster. "There is someone ahead," she told me, taking over as we crept toward the center of the ride.

Suddenly, a man darted out from behind a pile of wood, and we raised our handgun to aim it at him. But he was hurt and wasn't attacking. As he stepped into the moonlight, I recognized him vaguely, "Drogan?"

"Greetings, Winifred Burkle," he nodded.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, lowering my weapon, though Illyria wouldn't let me focus solely on him. "And you're hurt," I pointed out. "Who did this to you?"

"Angel," he replied.

"Our Angel?"

"I'm afraid so. Something is wrong for him to have attacked me like this. I thought having allies against him would be helpful, so I sought you out."

"How did you find us?"

"I can find anyone who has been to the deeper well," he explained, holding one arm, his breath labored and wheezing. "Except for the other vampire, William the Bloody. His location has been obscured from me."

I wondered why the hell Spike's location was being kept a secret. Everyone knew he was back in Rome with Buffy. But then Illyria stiffened and said, "Borritz demon," just as a really strong odor wafted toward us. A big demon jumped out at us, probably looking to pick off an injured man and a skinny girl. But we had other ideas in mind.

I let Illyria take over most of the control, and she said a silent spell that made our whole body tingly warm and slowed the flow of time. We put four slugs into the demon's heart, which I reminded Illyria was in its lower abdomen, before time sped up again. The Borritz demon fell to the ground, making a horrible keening noise and before it could get up, Illyria stomped on its neck, severing its spine and killing it instantly. "Ugh," I said. "I hate how cold you get when you're killing something."

"It was a demon," Illyria replied. "It did not have one of these souls you humans are so invested in."

"Still," I told her, backing away from the demon and holding an arm out to help Drogan walk with us, "it probably had a family at some point."

"You mourn too much over the human man," Illyria said, coldly as Drogan took our arm, looking at us with a confused knit to his brow. "I wouldn't think there be any room for an insignificant demon as well."

"What," asked Drogan, stopping us so he could look in our face, "has happened to you, Winifred Burkle?"

"Oh, that," I waved Illyria's presence off like it was nothing. "Apparently Illyria's personality got imprinted on my brain somehow. And let me tell you, she's not a polite houseguest."

"Imprinted? This is very strange. I've never heard of such an occurrence."

"Yeah, I'm just weird that way," I responded sarcastically. "C'mon, let's get you somewhere safe so we can patch you up."

* * *

_  
A/N: Here's the last of my weekend productivity. Don't forget to review!_


	12. Power Play Part 4

_A/N: Hi folks! I just want to say thanks for sticking with me! I really appreciate it._

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* * *

  
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Power Play – Part 4

Fred came back to the office later in the evening, finding me in my office talking to Lorne. "Hey, Fred," I greeted her with a tired wave.

"Charles," she nodded. "Lorne." For a moment, I thought Illyria was the one who spoke, since her voice was so low and almost serene. But when she spoke again, her accent gave her away. "I've come across some disturbing news about Angel."

"Yeah?" I asked, fiddling with her drawing of the circle on my desk.

"He's attacked Drogan, the keeper of the Deeper Well."

"The place where Wesley…" Lorne began, but stopped sadly.

"Yeah," Fred shook her head. "Drogan says Angel sent an assassin to kill him. I've got him resting at my apartment."

"But," I broke in, standing up with worry. "If Angel wants this Drogan dude shuffled off, why would you leave him alone?"

"I have Harmony looking after him," she replied. "Did you find out anything about the symbol that book gave us earlier?"

"No," I shook my head, looking to Lorne. We'd been trying to do research all afternoon, but it's not like the two of us were exactly the brain trust of the operation. "I tried to ask Angel about it, but he just socked me in the gut and sent me on my merry way, saying something about all of us being tiny little ants."

"Yeah, kiddos," said Lorne. "Angel's gotten a taste for power. And once you're up that high, everyone does start to look small by comparison."

"There's got to be somethin' we can do, though, guys," Fred insisted. "Some way we can get Angel back on our side? Someone we can talk to?"

"Well," I began. "This has always been the Senior Partners' plan, hasn't it? Bring Angel into the fold?"

"And who knows more about the Senior Partners than a certain jailbird?" Lorne replied.

"So we talk to Lindsey, right?" Fred asked, so unsure of everything, it almost made me sick. She'd come so far since Pylea, but this whole situation with Illyria had her sliding back into that girl she used to be. I hated her for that.

"Let's do this, then," Lorne nodded, standing to join us as I picked up the drawing and took it with me on the off chance Lindsey would recognize it.

We found Lindsey in his apartment, under house arrest that Angel had ordered when he rescued Lindsey from that hell dimension. "Hey, if it isn't the heroes? Come to visit little ol' me!"

"Yeah, shove it, Lindsey," I snapped, pushing my way into his house and turning to watch as Fred and Lorne followed me.

"Well, I'd offer you drinks," Lindsey smiled, "but I'm afraid I save the hospitality for guests who are invited."

"We'll make this quick, Lindsey," Fred told him. "Do you know if the Senior Partners were planning something? Some way to prod Angel into hopping over to their side?"

"They're always working on somethin', sugar," he replied, plopping down on his couch like he hadn't a care in the world. "Care to be more specific?"

"Angel's been acting off lately," I told him. "Corrupted, almost."

"And he's not Angelus?"

"We don't think so," I told him. "We're still alive, so that's a good sign."

"It started when Spike left," Lorne mentioned, like maybe the info would help.

"Oh, the Partners managed to get rid of Angel's little boyfriend, huh? Man, I wish I'd thought of that."

"Just shut up, Lindsey," Fred said, insulted on Spike's behalf, "and tell us what you know about this symbol." She reached out to me and I handed her the piece of paper, which she unfolded and pressed into Lindsey's hands.

The dude took one look at the piece of paper and frowned, looking up at us. "How did you get this symbol?"

"Showed up in a book," I told him. "Someone hijacked the template system to show it to us."

"This is the Circle of the Black Thorn," Lindsey breathed, almost reverent through the sarcasm.

"Which is what?" I asked him, putting some force to my words to get him to snap out of whatever memory he was lost in.

"A group of demons, very powerful," he smiled, handing the picture back to Fred. "They are the Senior Partners' hands on Earth."

"What do you mean?" Fred asked him, taking the paper and folding it up again.

"What I mean, sweetheart, is that the Senior Partners don't exist on this dimension, so these Black Thorn members do all the dirty work. Keep the Apocalypse train a rollin'." Lindsey smiled again, tracing patterns on the couch's arm below his fingers until, suddenly, his face fell. "No! No way they would take him!"

"Him, who, cupcake?" Lorne asked.

"No way Angel gets into the Black Thorn and …!"

"And what?" I cried at him, grabbing his collar to make him look up at me.

"You must be so upset," Lorne waved me off, "that Angel could accomplish what you couldn't."

"Damn straight!" Lindsey said, pushing me away and standing up. "They wouldn't even consider him! At least, not until he killed one of his lieutenants."

"He hasn't killed any of us," Fred spoke up, looking at me. "But, he tried to have Drogan killed."

"I think it's time to ask your friend, the Battlebrand," Lindsey said, pointing us toward the door, "why Angel's been after him and leave me the hell out of it."

"Fine," I nodded, leading Fred and Lorne from the apartment. "But if we find out you're lying about this Black Thorn business, we'll be back. So don't … Oh, that's right!" I smiled as I cleared his door and turned around. "You're not goin' anywhere!"

"Lookin' forward to it," Lindsey nodded with a cruel smile just before he slammed the door in my face.

* * *

I led the guys back to my apartment, showing the way in. Harmony and Drogan were sitting on my couch, both drinking tea. The vampire was flipping through a fashion magazine, which she must have brought, because I hate those things. Not for the vapid articles so much as those annoying perfume samples that all mix together until they remind me more of a chemical bath than anything anyone would want to smell like on purpose. In contrast, Drogan was sitting and staring ahead, looking up when he saw us.

"Winifred Burkle and Illyria," he nodded, setting down his tea and standing. "Who are your friends?"

"Oh, hi, guys!" Harmony waved. "I'm glad you're here!" She jumped up and hugged me, whispering in my ear. "This guy is like, sooo boring."

I made the introductions and sat down in the chair across from the couch, weary of this whole evil-Angel business. To my relief, Charles took the lead and asked Drogan the first question.

"So, why do you think Angel tried to have you killed?"

"Ah," Drogan said, settling back on the couch, "I have known Angel for many years and always considered him a friend, a brother. But when I captured the assassin and persuaded him to divulge the name of his employer, I am certain he was truthful in naming Angel."

"But why the hell would Angel want you dead?" Charles continued, leaning on the arm of my chair. For some reason, maybe because I was feeling a little lost now that we couldn't depend on Angel to lead us in the right direction, I got the unmistakable urge to run my hand over Charles' back. It had been a long time since we were together, and things ended the way they needed to, but it would be nice to just touch someone. Comforting. But I held back, trying to focus on Drogan's story.

"Before he expired, the assassin revealed that Angel was concerned I would find something in the Deeper Well, something that would point to his involvement in the death of your friend."

"What?" I cried, sitting up straight and glaring at Drogan. "You can't possibly be saying that Angel had anything to do with Wesley's death!"

"Oh, but I am," Drogan said regretfully. "I once thought that Illyria's escape from the Deeper Well was predestined, that the sarcophagus was teleported by a whim of fate."

"And now?" Lorne asked, looking about ready to pass out until Harmony jumped up and helped him into her seat beside Drogan.

"And now I wonder if Angel had something to do with Illyria's escape." My heart dropped to my feet and I felt like puking when Drogan's implication hit home. Angel had tried set loose Illyria, had almost killed me, had killed Wesley.

"How do you know," I cried out, "the assassin was telling the truth? How do you know it's not just another trick the Senior Partners are using to make us distrust Angel?"

"No one holds back the truth under my persuasion," Drogan said, implying that his brand of persuasion had more to do with vinegar than honey.

"But, when Spike had his vision," Charles insisted, "Angel was the first to believe him, to do whatever had to be done to save Fred."

"Perhaps because he knew Illyria's extraction would be dangerous and he could eliminate his original target by luring Wesley into the chamber at just the wrong moment."

"What exactly happened in the Deeper Well?" Charles asked and I prayed that Drogan wouldn't answer. It was difficult enough to live through once, and I'd hardly been conscious at the time. "Angel told us Illyria destroyed Wesley's soul?"

"Aye, I'm afraid so," he replied sadly. "I told your man to stay out of the spell chamber, but he did not listen to me. He perished instantly."

"Did you see Angel signal to Wesley or anything?" Charles asked, and I knew he was just trying to get to the bottom of things, but all I could do was pray that the conversation end as quickly as possible.

"I had my back turned. That's why I went looking for William the Bloody. He would have seen what Angel did."

"But you couldn't find him," I remembered.

"You are correct, Winifred Burkle," Drogan nodded. "The vampire's location has been hidden from me."

"Must be because he's with Buffy," Charles murmured, but I wasn't quite sure if his idea made any sense. Who would Buffy need to hide from? She's a superhero. I'd only met her briefly right before she left with Spike, but she didn't look worried, or like she was about to go into hiding.

Sighing, I said, "I'm still trying to understand how you could think Angel had anything to do with Wesley's death! He loved Wes!"

"Not always, Freddikins," Lorne muttered. "He's wanted to kill Wes before."

"What?" I asked, before being struck with the memories I'd been given back by that damn Orlon Window. Why couldn't I have listened to Angel when he begged me not to break it? Why do I always have to know so damn much? "Connor," I muttered, nodding my head sadly.

"Who?" Charles asked, still scrubbed of all his Connor memories.

"It's not important now," I told him, anger growing in my stomach. "What's important now is to figure out why Angel would want to get rid of Wes. Why would he have anything to do with killing the man we all loved?"

"Some of us more than others, eh?" Lorne said kindly. I'm always impressed by how much compassion Lorne has, how much he can show with just a look and a particular tone to his voice. Suddenly, Lorne's head shot up and he sucked in a breath.

"What?" said Charles, looking up at the demon.

"What Lindsey said about Angel getting in with the Black Thorn!"

"That they'd only consider him if he'd gone so far as to kill one of his own people," Charles finished for him, disgusted and betrayed. I have to admit I was right there with him.

"If Angel's gone, if he's a threat to all of us," I shuddered before letting Illyria take over. "Your king must be eliminated if we are to protect ourselves from further threats in the pursuit of his ambition."

"Whoa, there, Illyria," Charles shouted, standing up and away from us. "Warn a dude before switchin' over, would ya?"

"Fred requested my presence for this mission. A confrontation with Angel is required. If necessary, we must kill him."

"I don't know," Lorne shook his head. "We're really going to do this?"

"Would you rather," Charles pointed out, "let the most sadistic vampire in written history take over an entity as powerful as Wolfram and Hart? Imagine the damage he could do!"

Lorne nodded regretfully as we all approached the door. Charles called back, "Harmony?"

"Yeah, Gunn?" she jumped up with a smile, always so eager to please. If she'd been human, I would have liked it better on her.

"D'ya mind keeping an eye on Drogan for a few more hours?"

"Sure thing! You'll have nothing to worry about. Ol' Droges and I will have lots of fun!" Turning to the keeper of the Deeper Well, she asked, "Do you wanna help me paint my toenails?"

Before we could hear the answer, the three of us left my apartment, headed for a major showdown with Angel. I hoped and prayed that he'd have some way to explain his behavior. That he wasn't the reason my Wesley was dead. That he had nothing to do with the demon driving my body. That he was still my friend and we wouldn't have to kill him. And then I wondered if we even _could_ kill him. Illyria could slow time, but Angel was really fast when he put his mind to it. He might even be able to keep up with us. In which case, we would be the ones dead, and not him. I shuddered at the thought as we piled into a company car, which Charles started and turned back toward the office.

* * *

We found the big man in his office, standing and looking out the window, almost like he'd been waiting for us. I hefted my sword as we approached, hoping I wouldn't have to use it. Illyria had a handgun and her super-strength and Lorne held a crossbow in his shaky hands. "Pull it together, guys," I murmured, wishing for the umpteenth time that Wes was still alive. He might have been annoying sometimes, but he was a good man to have in a fight. And I missed him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Angel asked without turning around, his voice cold and entirely unsympathetic.

"We've got a few questions for you, Boss," I said, meeting his tone with an angry no-nonsense one of my own.

"And I've got answers," Angel growled. "No. Not interested. And fuck off." His voice had gotten more and more severe as he turned around and saw us armed. "If you don't want to fall in line and go along with the plan, than you can leave. Pack your bags and quit."

"We pick the third option," I snarled at him. "What happened to you, man? This isn't you!"

"I'm afraid you've never met the real me," he replied, stalking towards us one deliberate step at a time.

"We've met Angelus," Fred pointed out.

"If I was Angelus," the vampire almost chuckled, "half of you would be dead already. Just for the _fun_ of it."

"If you're not Angelus and you're not going to kill us, Angel hair," Lorne butted in, his voice trying to calm Angel down, "why keep us around at all?"

Angel shrugged. "Amusement's sake? It's been loads of fun watching you three fumble around all week. It really warms the heart!" He laughed, putting a hand over his chest and making his face look touched with false emotion.

I wanted to charge at him right then and there, but Illyria stopped me, stepping between me and the vamp, and raising her gun. "We met an old acquaintance of yours, Angel," she said, holding her chin high as she stood before him, gun pointed at his head. "The Battlebrand has been gravely injured, on your orders."

"Actually, Drogan is dead," Angel replied.

"And how would you know this?" I asked him, hefting my sword and circling out from behind Illyria to get ready to lunge at him.

"Because I killed him," he replied, almost serenely. Like Drogan didn't mean anything. Like he hadn't been the man who had saved Fred's life in the Deeper Well.

"Angel!" I cried, letting my disappointment and sense of betrayal into my voice. "What about Wesley? Was his death part of your plan too?"

"Wesley's death was unfortunate."

"You son of a bitch!" Fred cried, abandoning her gun in favor of blurring up to Angel and wringing his neck. But Angel was fast enough to block one of Fred's hands, pushing her away from him so she stumbled back toward me. I caught her and righted her as Angel charged at Lorne, taking the demon's crossbow bolt in the shoulder, just above his heart.

Angel back-handed Lorne and tore the crossbow from his hands, flinging it across the room before coming after me. Illyria managed to get in front of him, blocking his path and hitting him in the gut as I stepped forward, swinging toward Angel's head. The vamp ducked and kicked the blade from my hands, only to be punched in the face by Illyria.

"That's enough!" he cried, grabbing Illyria and pulling her close so her neck was in easy range of those deadly fangs that I knew were just under the surface of his human face.

"No!" I cried. "You can't do this Angel!"

Before I knew what he was doing, he pulled some sort of jewel from his pocket and said, "_Volvarie_." A shock-wave of bright yellow magic tore from the jewel and over the entire room and once the spell started working, Angel put away the trinket let Illyria go, saying, "Please, just let me explain. We've only got six minutes."

"Before what?" she asked, stepping further away from him and rubbing her neck.

"Before the spell stops working and the glamor collapses. As far as anyone outside this room is concerned, we're still at each other's throats."

"Aren't we?" I asked him, earning a frustrated glare.

"If Fred would allow it," added Illyria, "I would happily be at your throat, Angel. Your treatment of our body displeases me."

"Yeah, sorry about that," he fumed, jaw clenched. "Look, I know it seems like I haven't been myself lately."

"Not since Spike left, babe," said Lorne carefully.

"I know, but it's all part of the plan!"

"Oh, for the love of fuck, Angel! Not with the plan again! We know all about your plans to get inducted into the Circle of the Black Thorn."

Angel smiled, almost. "You _think_ you know. But it's all been an act, to get in with them, to learn who they are. And now I'm in. I'm a member of the Black Thorn and I can identify them all."

"If this has been an act," Lorne asked, his voice thoughtful and suspicious, "was Spike's hasty departure part of the show?"

"Yeah," Angel said, scratching his head and clearing his throat. "I had to send Spike away temporarily to make them think I'd nothing left to fight for. He's actually here in town, hiding with Buffy and trying to dredge up an army."

"Well I smell Oscar," Lorne muttered, turning away to go sit down on the sofa like his legs couldn't hold him up any more.

"An army?" Illyria asked him. "For what?"

"It's time for our big move, people. It's time to bring this house of evil down."

"Oh, thank you, Jesus," I cried in relief, letting my sword fall to rest on the ground as we all waited for Angel to continue explaining the 'big picture' plan.

* * *

_  
And that's the end of Power Play! I decided to include all three scenes in this chapter so you wouldn't have to wait any longer to learn what Angel's been up to. And then, in the next few chapters (the Not Fade Away ones) we'll return to Angel's and Spikes' POVs all the way up to the end of the season and a little beyond._

_Please! I'd love to hear your comments. Did I draw out Angel's evil phase long enough? Too long? :) Let me know!  
_


	13. Not Fade Away Part 1

Not Fade Away – Part 1

"Back up a step, Angel, babe," Lorne asked. "What are you talking about? Bring the house down?"

"Make a final showing," I replied, putting some fire behind my words to let my people know I was dead serious. "The Powers That Be want us to strike back against the Senior Partners, and soon."

"How soon?" asked Gunn, who looked like the one the closest to believing me now that I was telling the truth. In fact, he looked almost relieved. Scared as hell, but relieved.

"Spike had a vision, a plan sent to us by the Powers that Be to really strike at the Senior Partners through their agents here on Earth. Together, the Circle is the most powerful group in this dimension. But separately, they're all just demons. And we can handle demons."

"Right," Gunn nodded. "And the big plan you've been going on and on about?"

"Start the war. Bring the fight to us. Show them for one bright and shiny moment that we have a choice and we choose to fight back."

"Yeah, that all sounds good, kiddo," Lorne scoffed. "But I think our eager friend was looking for more specifics. Especially this army you mentioned."

Deciding to use the remaining few minutes, I thought back to the day Spike left, and gave them a very brief and very censored overview of what had happened. I decided it would be for the best and would avoid lots of messy and time consuming questions if I left the sex parts out entirely. "Buffy heard we were in Rome, and she came for a visit. In the morning, Spike had the vision."

* * *

_ "It's so...ugh," Spike said, finally opening his eyes after his vision. "You two aren't gonna like it."_

_ "We won't like what, Spike?" asked Buffy._

_ "Ange, luv, d'ya still have that cone of silence spell?"_

_ "What spell?" Was I supposed to know what he was talking about?_

_ "That anti-spying spell from the first time we..."_

_ Oh. The first time we'd slept together — since getting souls, that is. "Yeah, I've still got it."_

_ "Good," he said. "We'll need it for this one."_

I quickly dressed and retrieved from my office the anti-spying spell Spike had mentioned. "Okay, Spike," I started when I came back into the bedroom and opened the box before running my hand over his trembling shoulder, petting him as I asked, "What won't we like?"

"So bloody awful," he murmured, leaning into my touch. Buffy had dressed while I'd been gone, but now she joined us again, sitting on the far side of the bed, giving us our space. I loved her a little bit more for that. But then Spike groaned, "It's time, Ange."

"For what?"

"What else? Your bloody apocalypse!"

"Oh, here we go again!" Buffy sighed.

"What did you see? What do we have to do?" I asked him. Why was it always about the fucking Apocalypse these days. Didn't a vampire have enough to deal with on a regular basis?

"We have to sodding bring the fight to them," he said, prodding at his temple until I took over for him, rubbing away the pain so he could speak.

"Okay, hon," I murmured. "How d'you suggest we do that?"

Spike sat up, drawing his knees closer to his chest as he hugged them, resting his forehead in his hands and groaning.

"What's wrong, precious?" I asked, petting the back of his neck.

"Bloody well hurts!" he snapped, though he arched into my touch. "Never had one this bad, luv."

"Do the visions always hurt?" Buffy asked, crawling forward so she could lay a hand on Spike's knee in comfort.

"Aye," he answered ruefully, placing a hand over hers. "Always."

"So," I asked, putting my arm across his shoulders and kissing his hair, "how do we bring the fight to the Senior Partners?"

"There's this ring, or secret society, of demons," he replied, taking my hand from his shoulder so he could grasp my fingers in his. Oh, he was still in pain, and needed the touch of blood family, my touch. "If we take them down, it'll be a huge blow to the Partners' influence in our bloody dimension."

"Who are they?" Buffy asked. "We'll have 'em dead in no time."

"Not so simple, kitten," he replied, almost whimpering as he dropped his head down again. "Ange?"

"Yeah, Will?"

"Could you...? I need more skin."

"Sure," I said, unbuttoning my shirt and taking it off.

"Woah!" Buffy cried in surprise. "Your answer to the Apocalypse is sex?"

"No," I explained, kicking off my shoes and wriggling out of my pants. "Spike needs as much skin contact as possible from me." I debated whether or not to keep my boxers for modesty's sake since Buffy was in the room, but finally decided, fuck it, and pulled them off. As I sat behind Spike, putting my legs on either side of his hips, pressing my chest against his back and wrapping my arms around his shoulders, under his chin, I continued, "It makes him feel better, lessens the pain."

"Yeah," Spike sighed, leaning back against me. "Angel's like extra, extra strength aspirin, Buff."

"Do you have this affect on just anybody?" she asked me, watching as Spike leaned his head back and brushed his cheek against mine.

"No," I replied, putting light kisses along Spike's jaw and noticing how the trembling under his skin grew less and less the longer I held him. "Just family."

"Alright," Spike spoke up eventually, raising his head. "Let me get this out before I pass out or somethin'."

"Sure," I said, giving him a quick squeeze of encouragement and then listening as Spike proceeded to tell us all about the Circle of the Black Thorn and what it would mean to take them down.

"How do we figure out who the bad guys are?" Buffy asked. "Is there a list somewhere?"

"No list," he answered, closing his eyes and dropping his head into his hands again. "Only the members themselves know who's in and who's not. But they are the most powerful, most amoral demons in this dimension. Maybe we could take an educated guess?"

"This is too important, Spike. We can't guess. We have to figure out for sure which demons are the most powerful." I insisted. "With the most influence...like I have here."

"What, pet? I don't follow."

"Illyria told me once that we've got to use the weapons we've got," I explained. "If only powerful demons get to be members and if only the members know who's who… What's more powerful than this place?"

"You wanna what?" Buffy asked. "Use your position here to infiltrate the group?"

"Exactly," I nodded.

"But Ange, you're not evil."

"Not yet," I told him, a plan forming in my head. "We're going to need your slayers for this, Buffy. We need to be sure this works the first time."

"Alright," she agreed, "My slayers and I are with you. But, we're not bringing Angelus if that's what you're thinking! No way, no how, buddy."

Smiling at her way with words, I replied, "No, but it's going to look almost like we have. Which means," I sighed. "Fuck. It means you two will have to leave together. Leave me here alone."

"What?" Spike asked, opening his eyes and turning around in my arms to look at me. "You promised me always!"

"And I promise it again," I said, kissing him before he could flinch away. "It's going to be an act, right Buffy?" The girl nodded, and I returned her nod gratefully. "The Senior Partners know about us, Spike. But if it looks like you've left me for Buffy and broken my heart," I explained, trying not to get emotional over the idea, "then they might believe me when I say I've nothing left to fight for, except them."

"Who's goin' to be in on this little plan of yours, Angel? Fred and Charlie?"

"Just the three of us," I insisted. "The others have to believe I've gone evil, too. I have to push them further and further away until they're about ready to kill me."

"But not so much that they actually do, right?" Buffy asked.

"Right," I nodded. "Their reactions need to be true for this to work. I have a feeling that's what it's going to take for the bad guys to really trust me enough to bring me in."

After a few tense moments of silence, the Slayer asked, "So what do we do once we kill these demons?"

"Fight a war," Spike croaked, leaning against me again. "Kill many, many more demons, luvs. I think I remember something about needing the Witch as well."

"Willow?" Buffy asked quietly. "If we can find her. She's not exactly in this dimension at the moment."

"Where'd she go?" I asked, concerned that if we couldn't find Buffy's friend, everyone I cared about would be dead soon and none of it would have made any difference. "How do we contact her?"

"I'll handle it," Buffy insisted. Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair and asked, "So when do Spike and I have to leave? 'Cause I would really love a shower."

Spike was getting anxious in my arms, so I asked, "Actually, Buffy, could you, uh, give us a few minutes? So Spike and I can talk?"

"Right!" she said, jumping up. "Right. Of course. I'll go get my bag, from the car."

"Buffy?" I caught her attention as she turned to leave. "I'm sorry to ask, but when you come back up, could you meet Harmony at her desk? I'm going to have her get you settled in one of the guest suites so you can shower and change there, since we've got to keep up appearances that you're stealing Spike from me."

"Sure," she nodded, straightening her clothes and tying her hair back up and trying not to look upset. "Never a cozy morning after for us…"

When I caught the meaning of her words and realized how much I was hurting her by making her leave again, my heart felt crushed. Like I needed to breathe and couldn't. "We'll talk again before you go, okay?"

"Okay," she nodded and left the room, closing the door gently behind her. I quickly made the call to Harmony, who was thankfully already at her desk, telling her to set up a room for Buffy. My assistant agreed readily and hung up on me before I was done giving her directions, eager to have something to do. I shook my head and turned back to Spike, the anxious look on his face making my heart fall. It looked like I was going to have to be sure of this plan for the both of us. He needed me to be the strong one, so I drew him close to me and whispered, "Everything's going to be fine, _cor_."

"You didn't have to make her go," Spike said, shifting away from me so he was sitting on the bed facing me, but keeping his eyes down. Fuck. He was mad at me about Buffy. I knew I shouldn't have let last night happen. I should have sent her away. But Spike wanted her in our bed, and I was helpless to refuse with such an overwhelming temptation. "And there's got to be a better way to do this thing than splitting up."

"Will, look at me," I demanded, taking his hand in mine. When he scoffed and met my eyes, I told him, "I know you hate this plan. Shit, I hate this plan. But if you've got anything better, now's the time to share it."

"Bloody hell, Ange," he sighed, letting himself fall back onto the mattress but keeping his hand in mine, "it hurts so soddin' much, I can't even think. And you didn't have to be so mean to Buffy."

"Mean? I wasn't mean," I said defensively, thinking about what I said and wondering if I _had_ been mean. "I needed to talk to you alone. Because you're the one who's mine, Spike. What happened last night, what I let happen...doesn't change that fact, precious." I made my voice as certain as I could, though I was anything but certain about last night being something I regretted.

"You think last night was a mistake?" he caught on, sitting halfway up and turning my hand in his to look at the palm, gently tracing a finger across it.

"Yeah," I told him. It had to be, right? I had Spike, he was mine, and even that was more than enough for one person, wasn't it? "As intense and wonderful as it was, I should have known better. I should have ... Why? What do you think?"

"I think," he smiled up at me, "that being with Buffy brought us closer together, Angel, got everything all out there at once and cleared the air."

"Wishful thinking," I muttered, though some part of me wondered if he was right.

"I think Buffy is lonely and in pain, and we helped her feel loved again."

"But what happens when she has to leave? She'll just be upset all over again."

"Maybe, maybe not," he sighed, shaking his head before pressing a hand to his temple and wincing. With a hiss, he said, "I think there was a reason the Powers waited to give me this vision until Buffy was sleeping in the bed with us."

"What reason is that?"

"Because if we're going to win, we need her. We need her slayers and we need the witch."

"So not only do the Powers That Be have a line into my boyfriend's skull, but they manipulated things so we'd invite Buffy into bed with us?"

"You'd call me your _boyfriend_?" he asked me, sidestepping the Buffy issue, and I hesitated for a moment.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?" I asked him, with a hint of a smile.

"You did," Spike nodded, scooting closer so he could tilt his head and kiss me. Oh, for fuck's sake, the things his kisses did to me! Opened me up, made me completely vulnerable to him. And what I'd said the night before last had been true. If Spike left me, for real, it would break me. I'd be broken and alone again, and I don't think I'd survive it.

"Just for the record," I told him, whispering against his lips, "I fucking hate that word."

"Mmm," he replied, kissing me again. "I like it. _Boyfriend_. Got a nice youthful ring to it."

"You would like it," I smiled. And then I sobered, remembering the original discussion, "I really wasn't thinking clearly last night. I was all drunk off you when I let everything with Buffy happen."

"No, I saw you, Peaches. I felt what you wanted and you wanted her. And when we all fell asleep together, with the slayer between us? You were _content_, Angel. More so than I've _ever_ felt from you. Because she and I were _both there._"

"Well, that doesn't mean I should have acted," I told him, because hearing his words, I knew I couldn't deny them. I'd been content, at peace, and almost happy. And what a dangerous situation that was! "Buffy's just going to get hurt. Again. And it's all my fault."

"Christ, Angel! Lay off the guilt for a mo, there. _I_ invited her."

Spike was right. He had brought this down on the both of us, being selfish and impulsive as always. He had been selfish, hadn't he? "Why? Why would you? And don't tell me the fucking Powers had everything to do with it."

"For you, me. Us. And for her. You've bitten her Ange, can't you feel how lonely she is? I mean, it's plain for all to see on her face, even."

"I can," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean it's our responsibility to fix her. She needs to get on with her own life and be with someone who can love her completely. And that's not either of us. Not anymore. We're moving on, remember?"

"Aye, that's what we said, luv," he sighed as I left him in the bed, getting up so I could dress. I could tell he was dissatisfied with how we left things, but there wasn't time to go over it again and again. The longer it looked like Spike and I were fine having Buffy in town, the less likely our plan to infiltrate the Black Thorn would be successful. So I got dressed, helped Spike get ready, and called Buffy back up to the penthouse. We formulated a plan for what we should tell everyone, where Spike and Buffy should go, how they should hide themselves, and how we would stay in contact without the Senior Partners finding out.

"It might take me longer to get in with the Black Thorn than it takes you to find Willow. A few weeks, even," I pointed out, scared that I might have to live without Spike for that long. We'd been almost inseparable for more than two months, and though Spike was still in the room with me, the thought of him leaving made me miss him anyway.

"Nah, just follow the plan, Angel," Spike told me, arm around my waist like he really didn't want to let go. In his other hand was a duffel bag with all his stuff. He had to take everything, just in case Hamilton or someone else decided to visit me up in the penthouse. Damn, I was going to miss having Spike's stuff around almost as much as I was going to miss him. At least if his things were still here, I could pretend that he was just out and he'd be returning soon. But no, I was going to have to spend the next week or two or maybe more alone. Away from Spike, away from Buffy, and acting like a total asshole so my friends would try to kill me. At least as Angelus I'd had lots of practice.

"I will. You two are going to be okay?"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, the strap of her overnight bag flung over her shoulder. She'd been fairly quiet since I'd asked her to leave earlier, and I'm sure it was because I'd hurt her feelings. I hated to see Buffy hurting, but I'd moved on, hadn't I? I couldn't be responsible for her happiness, even though just looking at her broke my heart. And thinking about the night before just made me want her again, a crushing, grinding need in my soul and body that Spike picked up on, raising an eyebrow at me. I shook my head, telling him to ignore it, because that's exactly what I was trying to do.

"Alright. I'll let you know who to hit and where to meet when I figure out who the members of the Black Thorn are, and I'll see you both there afterwards. Provided we make it through." I pulled myself away from Spike grudgingly and went to Buffy, clasping her hands in mine. "If we don't see each other again," I said, squeezing her hands to get her attention, "I want to thank you for helping, Buffy. For fighting with us, shoulder to shoulder. There's no second front this time. Just the one big fight and probably no hope of keeping this thing contained to L.A. But I want you to know I'm honored you're here. If you and your slayers can help turn the tide and fight back the hell the Senior Partners are going to rain down on us, everything will have been worth it." I hugged her then, feeling her wet tears press through my shirt. "Take care of him," I whispered to her, though I'm sure Spike could hear me just the same, "and know that I'll always love you."

Buffy hugged me closer, nodding, before letting me go and stepping back, wiping her eyes. She gave me a determined look, like she didn't want to fail me, which I smiled at. "I will, Angel," she said quietly, keeping her eyes with mine. "I'll do my best to keep him safe." It was nice to know someone so strong would look after my boyfriend for me. Hopefully she wouldn't end up taking him permanently.

But when I turned to Spike and saw how utterly unhappy about this he was, it made me feel like there was no way in hell he would leave me. I pulled him into my arms and held him there, letting his hands wrap around my back. I loved how he was shorter than me, but not by too much. It was easy to reach down and kiss his lips, brushing mine against his gently. Our tongues touched once, twice and I tried to hold onto that taste, that flavor of him. "I'm gonna miss you so much, Will," I whispered, leaning my forehead against his.

"If you…" he tried to say, choking on emotion. "If you die before I get to see you again, Angel, I'll come down to hell and kill you again. With my bare hands if necessary."

I laughed a little, though I felt a tear or two slip from my eyes. "I'll keep that in mind." Sighing, I looked down, bringing my hands up to the sides of Spike's face and kept him looking at me, our foreheads still touching, eyes so close together that there was nothing to focus on. Just Spike consuming my vision, becoming my whole God damned world. "I love you, Sunshine."

"And I you, Peaches," he replied, reaching forward for one last kiss. Then, he stepped back and cleared his throat, wiping his face dry. "Right, then, Slayer," he said, turning to Buffy and putting his hand at the back of her arm, "let's do this."

Buffy nodded. "Bye, Angel," she waved to me, and I nodded back at her.

Spike gave me one last look and I waved sadly as they left, taking the elevator down to my office, where I would follow in a few moments to put on our little show. Spike's last words to me were, "Ta, pet," and then the elevator doors closed and they were both gone.

Unable to speak without losing my composure, I watched my biggest nightmare of the last few days come true, I just let them go. It was only then that I realized Spike hadn't actually said the word. He'd reciprocated when I told him I loved him, but he didn't use the word to say he loved me back. Damn him and his moronic pride!

* * *

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	14. Not Fade Away Part 2

Not Fade Away – Part 2

I'd been courting the Black Thorn for a good ten days, every move calculated to keep up appearances, before I actually got somewhere. Azrael, the devil, and I played racquetball a few times since Hamilton had introduced us and the devil was a great guy to hang out with until he did something or said something that reminded you just how evil he was underneath. But I got better at hiding my revulsion the further things went on, just locking it down in the place I used to keep all my Angelus thoughts.

And working with Hamilton was the worst part of it. As much as I disliked Eve, at least she had a sense of humor about her morality. Hamilton did whatever needed to be done for the company, without comment, without sarcasm, and without remorse. Just being around him made me sick to my stomach. But I kept working. I kept my mind on getting the job done and not on how much I missed Spike. Not on how he was stuck in a hotel room without me, but with Buffy. Not on what they might be doing together.

It was easy pushing Gunn away, because he just got mad at me before storming off and I knew he could take it. What really hurt was saying those things to Fred and even Lorne. They both had this look they would give me, this hurt and disappointed look that had me cursing myself for keeping them out of the loop.

So after ten days, only a few hours before my people confronted me about Drogan, Hamilton collected me from the penthouse, saying, "It's time."

Everything had gone to plan. The Senior Partners believed I'd been working against my people for much longer than ten days. It helped that I rekindled a few acquaintances I'd known as Angelus, horrendously evil demons I'd considered something akin to friends before getting my soul. I told them that while I still had a little 'soul problem' I'd gotten over it. I was back to being Angelus, back to being myself.

I hated myself.

But I was a champion. The Powers That Be stepped in and made me what I am, just for this reason. I came to the realization very quickly that I was created for this purpose, for this war. This was fate, destiny. And the only part that _I_ got to choose was how I would fight. So I chose doing whatever it took. I chose fighting for the world and how it should be. I chose giving our side the best chance we could have of winning. I chose hoping for a future with Spike. I chose to join the Black Thorne, allying myself with the most notable evil-doers on the planet. And I chose to kill Drogan.

I chose to relieve his suffering at the hands of the Black Thorn. I chose to end the Battlebrand, the purest and most good of the Immortals, by draining his blood and snapping his neck. I chose to do these things. For the world, for humanity, but mostly for the hope that I would get to see my boyfriend again. For the hope that I would get to hear Will's voice and touch his skin and taste his blood again before I was finally done with this place called Earth.

As I stepped away from Drogan's lifeless body and towards the semi-circle of masked demons watching me kill one of my oldest friends, they slowly started taking off their masks. Drogan's blood infiltrated my body, at once making me feel extremely powerful and confident and unbearably weakened by sadness. As the members of the Black Thorn revealed themselves to me, applauding me for passing this final test, I found I wasn't surprised at the identity of any of them. Lord Sebassus, Cyrus Vale, Billy Blim, Senator Dearborn and a few others I recognized were members. And then there were the ones I didn't recognize. Demons that looked human and those who didn't, all were applauding me for committing this heinous act. In their own terrifyingly evil way, they were proud of me.

Azrael was the one to show me around, introducing me to those I knew and those I didn't. I memorized all of their faces. I memorized their names and any other details I was given. I memorized their scents and the way they breathed, the way they moved, the way their hearts beat. I memorized it all on the hope that I'd never have to be in a room with this much evil again.

Because I could feel myself slipping. I could feel how Angelus was drawn to all this power. The thing was, though, I've never been much of a team player. Soul and demon agreed on that point. The Circle of the Black Thorne would go down in a fiery blaze of violence and malevolent rage. The only difference between me and Angelus was that he wanted to take over for them. He wanted to _be_ the Circle. He wanted to get rid of the others and set up shop on his own. And I have to say, it was a tempting thought.

To have this much power? To never have to bend to the will of those who were stronger, more powerful? To have whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. It was almost enough to sell my soul. But not quite. Not when it would mean innocent lives lost. Not when it would mean the fall of humanity. Not when it would mean the Apocalypse.

And not when it would mean giving up my soul mate, now that I'd found him.

"So now, I'm in," I told my people later that day in my office, with only a minute or so of glamour left to hide our conversation from the Senior Partners' spies. "I know who the members of the Black Thorn are. And we're going to kill every…single…one."

I gave them a few seconds to think before I continued, "This is the Powers that Be giving us direction, guys, giving us a way to fight back and tip the scales toward our side. It'll be dangerous, it won't be pretty, and Spike's certain it will be the start of a war that we may or may not be able to stop here in L.A. I can't order you to do this, you need to decide on your own whether this is something you'd consider dying for. But I need everyone's help for this to work. The bright side is we have the slayers on our side again. And with the slayers comes --"

"The Witch," Illyria finished for me.

"Right. So we've got the powers that be, the slayers, and the most powerful witch in a century in our corner."

"When will this all go down?" asked Gunn, still suspicious.

"Very soon," I said, thinking of the time-delayed poison I'd used to spike Lord Sebassus' drink. "It won't be long before the Circle asks me to do something even worse than sacrificing Drogan."

"Why did you do it, Angel?" Fred asked me. "Why Drogan?"

"If they thought I could turn my back on someone as pure and good as Drogan, they would let me in that much easier."

"But we had Drogan at my apartment," she continued. "And Harmony was watching him."

"If that's the case," I said, knowing we were running out of time, "we definitely can't trust her."

"Is there anyone we can trust, Angelcakes?" Lorne asked me, looking sick and greener than usual.

"Everyone in this room," I replied. "Spike and Buffy. That's it. Look, we only have a few seconds left. I can't make this decision for you, but I can't do it without you. So we'll vote. You'll have to decide for yourselves whether this is something you'd die for. So, who's with me?"

All three of them shared looks with the each other and Gunn was the first to raise his hand. "I'm in," he said softly, but confidently.

Encouraged by Gunn's decision, Fred raised her hand, "I'm in. Me and Illyria."

Lorne took a few more moments to think before regretfully raising his hand. Good. Everyone was on board. And then I felt the glamour start collapsing, so I grabbed Fred around the neck again, letting my vampire face slip forward. "Do you got that?" I yelled at my people, shoving Fred away from me. "Or do we need to go over it again?"

"No, we got it," Gunn scoffed, leading Fred by the arm from my office with a deep frown. Lorne stormed out after them, everyone putting on a show for Hamilton, who was standing next to Harmony's desk outside my office. Man, I hated that guy.

* * *

Buffy and I sat in our hotel room, waiting for our calls to be returned. We had to wait for Willow and all her protective spells before we could really do much without being detected by the Senior Partners. Buffy had made some calls to the local Slayer squads, getting them to gear up without telling them any details and I found myself impressed with how much she'd grown into the role of commander to her army of little girls.

The room was your standard mid-range hotel room: floral patterns on everything, two queen beds, a table and chairs, TV, bathroom, mini-fridge, heavy curtains shut against the sunlight. I wished again that Angel had given me more spending money so we could stay somewhere fancier. Maybe someplace with a bar in the lobby.

It had been nearly a week since Buffy and I had 'left town', getting as far as this hotel near the airport. But as long as everyone thought we'd gone to Rome, everything was gravy. Everything but this incessant waiting. Though I'd been leaving coded messages for Angel with the front desk every day, updating him on our progress contacting Willow, I hadn't been able to speak to him. Not without giving up the ruse, in any case.

So I sat and waited and tried not to think about how that one night with Buffy probably had Angel all insecure now that he had time to brood about it. He thought it was a mistake, that it hadn't been one of the best things we'd ever done together. And I wasn't there to pull his head out of his ass and tell him yet again that I was his and he was over thinking things. Well, it was his fucking idea to send me and Buffy away in the first place.

"Quit fidgeting," Buffy scolded me, looking up from the book she was reading. "We'll hear something soon."

"I'm sorry, Buff. I can't help it. I've been at his side day and night for two months. I don't know what to do with myself when he's not around. Plus, we can't leave the bloody hotel, for fear of someone spotting us. I'm goin' stir-crazy."

"Maybe I can get one of the Slayers to bring supplies? Entertainment of some sort?"

"I don't want to be entertained. I want to go do something." _Or someone_, I thought to myself.

"What else is going on with you, Spike?" She put her book down on the table and came to sit next to me on the bed. It had been difficult sharing a room with her, given that we hadn't even talked about what happened with Angel the night before we left. Though there were two beds, somehow we'd come to the silent agreement that we only needed one. We slept side by side, for comfort's sake, but neither of us had made a move for anything more. Not with the bloody Angel elephant in the room. "This doesn't seem like the normal boredom blues." Buffy caught my gaze in hers, her brows pushed together in concern. "Is there something I can fix? Talk to me, ya mook!"

I laughed, charmed by her even through the confusion. I'd been thinking a lot lately, with hardly anything else to do, but I still wasn't sure where my head should be. I knew Angel was my home, my soul, and I was going to stay with him no matter what. But Buffy still had a big piece of my heart. And the more I thought, the more confused over the whole thing I got. Loving two people at once has always got to be confusing, right? And I can't imagine it being any better when you've slept with them both at the same time. And they still both love each other. Bugger.

Buffy was_ here_, even more beautiful every time I looked at her. And in the moments when she thought I wasn't watching, when it had been a long time since either of us had spoken, she looked heartbreakingly lonely. But Angel was in my blood. And I missed him so sodding much, I thought I might go crazy before I could see him again. Before I could make love to him. Before I could break his skin with my fangs and draw his blood over my tongue, lost to the absolute rapture of lust that was feeding from him.

"Well," I confessed to her, because Buffy might need to know what was wrong if I did go crazy, "there may be a slight issue of withdrawal." I kept my head hanging, contrite, but I looked up at her through my brows.

"Withdrawal from what?" she asked suspiciously. "Drugs? Human blood?"

"Angel's blood."

"You've been drinking Angel's blood?"

"Yeah, pet. Almost every day for the past two months."

"You're addicted to Angel? Like, literally?"

I nodded, the memory of his blood trickling down my throat setting off a major craving. My leg started bouncing on its own, burning off the steam I had to spare.

"Is he addicted to you?" Buffy eyed my leg and I willed it to stop bouncing, finally succeeding on the fourth try.

"I should imagine so."

"Regular vampire blood won't help? I don't know, wean you off slowly or something?"

"'Fraid there's only the one source. Somethin' about the soul sharing a body with the demon. He tastes almost as good as slayer. But, Angel's blood doesn't make me 'grr' so much as the other thing…" I wondered for the millionth time where Angel was, what he was doing, what he was wearing.

"I guess you'll just have to detox," Buffy shrugged, patting my hand comfortingly. "We don't know when the wait will be over."

"Then there's the sex withdrawal." I whispered, smiling sadly. "I hate being celibate."

"You've been celibate for less than a week, Spike. It's not critical."

"I know, but when you get used to having something all the time, it's bloody hell on earth when you have to give it up."

"But less than a week? Seriously?"

"What can I say? I've an addictive personality, which I s'pose explains the smokes and the alcohol." In that moment, I hated Angel for kissing me that first day, for letting me goad him into taking things further. My fingers ached to touch him. Hell, my teeth ached to bite him. My lips ached to kiss him. My tongue ached to taste him. Everything ached.

Buffy sighed. "I know we've avoided talking about this..."

"Hey, for good reason, luv." Buffy wanted to talk about the two of us, apart from Angel. She knew how he and I felt about each other, but I had a feeling she wanted me back. And I wanted her, of course. But there was always the issue of Angel. I couldn't leave him, even if I had to. Not for real.

"Can I ask why you love him?"

"I dunno, pet. Why do you?"

"I asked you first!" She pouted prettily. God, she knows how to get to me, and I hated the fact. I hated that she knew me so well, that she was the one person who might have been able to tear me away from Angel. But there was no way I was going to let her.

"That doesn't mean I have to answer," I snapped. "I'm not in the mood for games, Buffy. Everything just…hurts too much."

"I'm not playing games, Spike. I'm trying to have a conversation with you."

"A completely unnecessary conversation that's really none of your business." Buffy looked hurt at the words, hurt I was pushing her away. "What did you think, kitten? You get me to yourself in this hotel room and I'd tell you everything Angel and I ever did together? You wanna hear all the sordid little details? Oh, the 1890's were a particularly brutal decade, up until the ponce got his soul. You wanna hear about all the families we ripped apart? All the young girls we terrorized?"

"I'm just trying to understand..."

"Understand what, Buff? How I could love him more than I love you?" Oh, god. That was exactly the wrong thing to say. Good going, Spike. You've made the girl cry. "Oh, Buffy. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

She sniffed and blinked away the tears that never fell. "No, no. It's fine," she laughed a little. "It should be fine."

"I can't believe I made you cry. I'm a git."

"No – well yeah, you are," she said, smiling a bit and wiping her face, "but only because you didn't tell me you were alive. I'm still mad at you for that."

"I had my reasons," I said, turning away from her.

"Lame-ass macho reasons!" Buffy sighed again, leaving her seat and coming to kneel in front of me. "I guess I was just trying to understand what you and Angel really mean to each other."

"Why?"

"Because even though I've been so lonely this year that it's killing me," she admitted, " and even as fantastic as the other night was, I don't want to step in the middle of something really good for both of you."

"You think we have something good?"

"Yeah, I do," Buffy sighed. "As much as I was hoping I could just show up here and bring you home with me, when I saw you two together, I just knew."

"Knew what?"

"That you've both finally found what you were looking for. That you two belong together, as strange as that might be."

"Strange?"

"Yeah," she chuckled. "Both my vampire exes together? It's like I turned you both off women."

I laughed. "Well, with Angel, you kinda did. He's been too afraid to really get involved with anyone since you."

"Until you came along," she pointed out.

"You said we both found what we were looking for?" I asked, and Buffy nodded. "Well, you were right, luv. For the past hundred odd years, Angel's been searching for someplace to call home - someone. Angelus had a home at Darla's side, with Dru and me, but Angel lost all that, what with the soul. He wants to be good, he wants to be human, but he's still a monster, Buff. He craves the taste of blood and he revels in the crunch of violence and he loves inflicting pain and watching what it does to a person. Angel showed you the side of him that's tender and loving and loyal and good, but everything else is still underneath. He can't be a human, and he can't be a demon. But he can be like me. He can be his fucked up self and love me for everything I am, too, and feel at home in my arms."

I watched Buffy as I said these things to her, and I realized that as much as she loved him, Buffy really had no idea about half the things that went through Angel's head on a regular basis. Not like I did. And that's why he and I belonged together. Well, one of the reasons, anyways. I was trying not to think about all the others. But maybe going crazy wouldn't be so bad. Suited Dru just fine. And then, I wouldn't care about sitting in a hotel room, waiting for the moment when I could wrap my arms around my boyfriend and drink in his scent, and feel something akin to home.

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_Remember to review!_

_The next two chapters should appear shortly, and then it will take me awhile to finish writing the others. So, I want to thank you so much for continuing to read and leave comments. I really love hearing them, and they definitely keep me on my toes!  
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	15. Not Fade Away Part 3

Not Fade Away – Part 3

Buffy took in everything I told her about Angel, staying silent for a long time until she finally asked, "So what did _you_ find? In him?"

"The same things," I shrugged, noticing how nice it felt to open up to her. How I'd missed being close to her, being her confidante. But Angel was my everything, now. "Home, family, acceptance, love, sire."

"Sire?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah, luv. Angel never really needed a sire, not after the first few months as I understand it, but I've always needed it. Someone to give a damn about me, someone stronger who I can rail against, someone whose blood calls to mine, someone who smells and feels like family, someone who isn't bat-shit crazy, someone to look up to and love. And that's always been Angel."

"You're telling me," she said, laying it all out there, "that you've always been in love with him?"

"Not _in love_. But I've always loved him, even when I hated him, too. Used to drive Angelus nuts, 'cause he couldn't love and here I was loving Dru, loving him, hell, I even loved Darla a little. He liked to use it against me, so I hid it. I pretended not to care. I pretended it didn't hurt when Angelus left and then Darla. I pretended I could take care of me and Dru. But pretending only lasts so long. And even though I pretended I didn't need him, I kept trying to get his attention, good or bad, and it kept not working."

"When did you try getting his attention?"

"That first Slayer I killed?" I asked, waiting for Buffy's nod before continuing. "That was for him. So he'd be proud of me. But he wasn't."

"He had his soul by then, didn't he?"

"Well, yeah," I scoffed. "But I didn't know that. I knew he felt different, odd. But vamps aren't supposed to have souls. Didn't even occur to me, pet.

"And then, when Dru got sick and we needed his blood, I thought maybe killing him would help me get over his absence. But you just wouldn't let me kill him, would you?" I laughed, remembering how feisty Buffy had been when we first met.

"What about me?" she asked, her voice small and sad. "Was I all about Angel, too?"

"No, luv," I assured her, squeezing her hand. "Our thing was about how amazing you are, and how any man would be a fool not to fall in love with you."

"But not a fool enough to stay with me," she added, voice full of self-pity.

"You know," I said, nudging her with my shoulder, "Angel and I don't talk about you…at all, really, but I know leaving you is one of the hardest things he's ever had to do."

We sat in silence, Buffy trying to fight back the tears and me trying not to feel too jealous that she still loved him so much. Eventually she asked, "What about helping me stop Angelus?"

"He'd gone crazy, being locked up behind a soul for so long. Summoning Acathala wasn't something the old Angelus would have done. I think he just wanted to hurt you so much you'd finish him off. And I was still wonderin' if getting rid of him would help."

"Did it?"

"No," I chuckled. "Just made Dru angry with me."

"And getting your soul?"

"Ah, that," I nodded, taking a minute to think. "That was mostly about you, about being good enough for you. But there was that little hope that maybe if I had a soul, Angel wouldn't hate me anymore. Either that, or it would piss him off enough he'd stop ignoring me."

"You are a weird vampire, d'ya know that?" she asked with a laugh.

"Yeah, I know. But I've never been one to just fall in line, now have I, luv?"

"Nope, not so much," she agreed. "But you two? Sleeping together? If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have believed it."

"Why? 'Cause we're such normal, stand-up blokes?" I asked, sarcastically.

"You've both ever only mentioned being with women."

"Dunno," I shrugged. "I've just always been this way, when I was alive, even."

"What way?"

"Attracted to people, no matter what's under their britches."

"Oh," she said thoughtfully. "And Angel?"

"Now, _he_ just has issues," I said, laughing a little.

"But he likes being with you?"

"Sleeping with me doesn't make him perfectly happy, Buff. But it's something, anyways. And then, there's the feeding. Our blood hits a vamp just like a drug, somethin' exciting and brutal, making you want to either fuck or fight. And usually we pick the first option. But he likes being with me well enough, even without the blood. Maybe more than well enough, but who wouldn't, yeah?"

Buffy laughed at that, and a more comfortable silence grew between us until I cleared my throat.

"And what are _you_ looking for, Slayer?" I asked, breaking the comfort and putting a tense feeling back in the air.

"The same things you were, I'd guess," she sighed. "Except for the whole sire bit."

"Thought you'd be okay now that you're not the 'one girl in all the world'. Thought it might let you live a little."

"I don't know, Spike. I tried to be normal for a few months while Giles and Xander were looking for a place to set up Slayer Central. I tried, but that's not me. I'm the Slayer, and I figured out this year that I've always been the Slayer, even before I was called. It's who I am. And it's lonely."

"Even with all those othersSlayers around?"

"Well, yeah," she explained, "they're all slayers, but none of them had to go through what I did. None of them get how hard and un-fun it was, and now that I'm in charge, I can't exactly be friends with them and still expect them to follow orders."

"No, I s'pose not."

"And there are hardly any guys around," she complained.

"Been awhile, luv?"

"Nobody," she sighed. "Nobody since you," Buffy looked up into my eyes, sadly sheepish, like she knew she shouldn't hope for anything, but she was anyway.

"Wow," I breathed. "Uh, thanks?" I thought for a moment before asking, "Are you very upset I took up with Angel so soon?"

"No," she sniffed, brushing away a tear. "He's a lovable guy. I'm glad you make him somewhat happy. I'm just upset you thought I wouldn't want to know you were alive."

"I tried to come right away," I told her. "Except I couldn't 'cause I'd gone all Casper."

"You were a ghost?" she asked, almost amused.

"Somewhat like. Had me some fun haunting Angel. Almost got sucked into hell, though. And not bein' able to touch anything, taste anything? Wasn't fun, pet."

"So why didn't you come after you were all solid again?" She pushed on my arm as if to make absolutely sure I was corporeal.

"Well," I said, ducking my head as I thought about it. "Right away, Ange and I had this fight. Major blow out, no holds barred sort of tussle."

"Is this the fight you said you won?"

"Yeah, pet. I did. I could've killed him, you know."

"But you didn't."

"No, I didn't," I sighed. "I told him it was so you wouldn't get upset with me, but that wasn't the real reason."

"What _was_ the real reason? Because you loved him?"

"I just couldn't imagine the world without him in it, you know? Even if he had been gone for awhile after you killed him, it was like comin' up for air when I felt him return. And when I was there, holdin' him down and ready to do it, I just got this overwhelming sense of loss. Like I were about to cut off my own arm, like I were about to murder myself. Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah," she nodded her head, taking my hand in hers and looking down at them.

"S'pose soon after that's when I decided to stay with him. He needed me to keep an eye on him and goad him into fighting, into remembering what he was fighting for. I knew I was getting to him when he offered to help me leave, when he found my presence so annoying he wanted to get rid of me. And then there were the visions."

"Yeah? How long have you been having them?"

"A couple a months, pet," I said, rubbing my temples at the reminder. "Since Cordelia died. I figured someone upstairs wanted me to be here for him, give him the messages. Seemed selfish to even think about leaving. And, Angel and I started our thing about the same time."

"And now you're in love with him," she told me, just saying out loud because she had to.

"Aye. I know at some point he wanted it to be you, but he's promised me forever, Buffy. Angel and I just, I don't know, belong together now."

"I told him a year ago I wasn't ready for him yet," she sniffed. "I wasn't ready for 'forever'. But now I'm ready for _something_, and you two just had to go and find each other, didn't you?" She didn't sound angry, but sad. Regretful.

"Sorry, Buff," I apologized, knowing better than to say anything else.

Buffy took a minute to process everything I'd told her, looking down at the carpet, but letting me keep her hand. "You know," she said, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat before continuing, "That day? I meant it when I said I loved you."

Stomach hopefully caught in my throat, I smiled at her, remembering those last few moments before I closed the Hellmouth. "You weren't just saying it?"

She shook her head vehemently. "I didn't have enough time to get you to believe me. But now that you're not in imminent danger of going all flambé, I'm going to say it again. I know you're with Angel, and I know we're over, but you deserve to hear it."

"No, don't," I tried to tell her, knowing I couldn't handle it. "Don't say it, Buffy."

"I love you, Spike."

"You fucking went and said it," I whispered. Chest tight, skin electrified, and stomach roiling, I grabbed Buffy in my arms, because I couldn't help it. We kissed urgently, pressing our lips together once, twice, three times, and my body, my soul, craved more. So much more. As much as I ached for Angel, I ached for her – my Slayer, my Buffy.

But then I thought of the taste of Angel's blood and how much I missed just being next to him. As much as I loved Buffy, she just couldn't be everything I needed. Not like he could. And I belonged to him, to Angel and not Buffy. So I pulled back, breaking the kiss and holding her at arms' length so I wouldn't be tempted to let myself sink back into her.

"We can't," I gasped, trying to calm my body down, even though I felt almost dizzy at the electric feeling of her lips on mine.

"Not without Angel," she agreed.

"Yeah," I nodded, thinking back to that last night we'd spent together with Buffy. "I can't believe that actually happened," I confessed, shivering at the memory, my cock stiffening a little. Keep it together, Spike, for Angel's sake.

"What? Just now? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

"No," I shook my head. "It means so much to me that you told me, really. I meant the other night, luv. It's like someone else's memory."

"I know what you mean," she said, shuffling over to the other bed to put some distance between us. "But it's not just me, is it? That night was amazing."

"Aye, pet. It was. But I don't think we should read much into it. Angel thinks it was a mistake."

"Yeah, I kind of figured. He said he wouldn't leave me again," she scoffed. "'Never again', he said. But then the morning came and he was all, 'Buffy get out of here'."

"He's just as confused and upset as either of us, pet," I pointed out.

"I know. I know that, but I just can't help remembering how I felt more loved that night than I have in a long, long time. But then the morning came and it was almost like before when he became Angelus."

"He's not Angelus," I insisted. "If he was, I could tell."

"But maybe he lost the soul between when you tasted his blood and when you had the vision thingy."

"I don't need his blood to know his soul is still there, Buffy. I can see it, plain as day. I can hear it and smell it and taste it in his kiss."

"So it's just Angel, pushing me away again." She shook her head. "You know, I bet thinks he's doing it for my own good."

"Yeah," I agreed, nodding my head slowly and speaking softly. "You're probably right. Though in the moment? That night when he said he wouldn't leave you? He meant it."

"How do you know that? It's not like he hasn't been one to break his promises before."

"Buff," I caught her eye, speaking softly, "it's a vamp thing. Since we're so close now, I can feel what Angel's feeling, almost like it were my own. Makes the sex ... okay, probably not something you want to hear about."

"You're not wrong."

"Point is, kitten," I continued, "when all that crap behind his giant forehead isn't gettin' in the way, he loves you. Probably more than he loves me."

"That can't ...," she trailed off, looking up at me again, watching as I nodded. It was true. And funny thing was, I couldn't even fault him for feeling that way. Watching my hands pick at a loose thread on my boot, I realized that I wasn't even jealous. That's just how it was. Angel loved Buffy, I loved Buffy. One of the many things that tosser and I had in common.

Besides, though he didn't love me as much as he loved her, he'd made me a promise, one that he'd seemed intent on keeping. Angel had promised me over and over again. He'd written it in my blood and on my body and in his kiss. Because he couldn't be what she needed. But he could be what I needed. And I needed him back so much. I needed him to come back and tell me it didn't matter that I still loved Buffy this much. All that mattered was I loved him and he loved me and there was still an _us_, even after the Apocalypse.

Buffy sighed again, "Spike, I don't love him more than I love you." The girl caught my eye in hers and I finally allowed myself to raise my head and face her. "I love you both the same. And I don't want to hurt either of you. I'm just so _alone_ at home. I miss you."

"Angel and I love each other, Buffy," I told her. "We belong together."

"I know that, now. I know that. I'm just…we didn't really get a chance to talk about that night, all three of us."

"No, we didn't. The bloody powers-that-be saw to that." I pointed to my temple, lucidly remembering the lasting pain that last vision had left me with. They downloaded so much information into my brain that I had a migraine for three days. Which I suppose was one of the reasons Buffy and I were just getting around to this conversation now.

"I'd never try to break you up, Spike. But, would it be incredibly selfish if I…"

I let her search for the words on her own for a bit, but eventually I got impatient and asked, "What would be selfish, luv?"

She looked down at her hands in mine, rearranging them a little, but not pulling away. Buffy sighed loudly before she mumbled, "If I wanted it to happen again?"

"What? Join us in bed again?" I thought about it. "I suppose it depends on your intentions, luv, weather it would be selfish of you or not."

"It's stupid idea, and I know that. But I mean, what if I wanted it to happen again and again? Like, from now on?"

If I wasn't already dead, I swear this bint would kill me. She loved me, she loved Angel. She didn't want to break Angel and me apart, she wanted to join us. For good. I wondered, would it just cause more heartache? Or would it bring us all closer together? No, that idea was too good to be true. Too damn good.

"You want both of us? To keep? Angel would never go for it, pet. I don't think you realize how jealous he can get."

"I realize, Spike. I was with him, too. Even though _he _left _me_, he hated everyone else I ever saw, you included. He hated Riley."

"Well that bloke deserved it," I scoffed, remembering Mr. American Hero and how things had ended between him and Buffy. "Angel won't reconsider that the other night was a mistake, Buffy. He thinks he's doing the right thing, the honorable thing, letting you go, the stubborn git."

"What do you think? About that night?" she prodded, really looking me in the eye so she could tell whether I was telling the truth or not.

"I think it was bloody brilliant," I whispered. "But that doesn't change much, does it?"

"Maybe he just needs some time to get used to the idea. To reconsider the whole mistake scenario."

"The three of us together, huh? Don't know that there's even enough time to reconsider what a bloke had for breakfast, Slayer. End of the world screamin' toward us, luv." She wanted us both, from now on. She wanted us to love her as much as we loved each other. I wondered if it was just the loneliness talking or if she really was ready. If she had figured things out in the past year and bloody well knew what she wanted, maybe it would work. And something I heard in her voice made it sound like it might.

She wanted us both. _Or_ she wanted to be able to sleep with Angel without stripping him of his soul. In which case, they would both be using me. The question was if I got to be with Angel and with Buffy, did I mind being used? I minded a little. Okay, a lot. A whole bloody barrel full. But if Buffy truly loved me as much as she loved Angel, and she did want to be with me, who was I to shoot her down?

My silence must have unnerved her, because she recanted, "Oh, god, I just made an ass of myself didn't I? Asking you to be with me? Asking you to want me when you've got Angel? See, I told you it was a stupid idea."

She sounded so _innocent_, if you could be innocent whilst inviting a lad to share you with his mate. Maybe she didn't want to use me. Maybe she just wanted us both. Maybe after all she'd been through she deserved to have us both. I had to test her, to be sure. It would be so easy for her, for both of them, to break me again.

As quickly as I could, I grabbed Buffy by the arms and threw her back onto the bed before pouncing on her. Fearful of scaring her too much, I covered her with my body but let her keep her hands free. She shrieked a little and flinched, but she didn't push me away, which was amazing, given what I had tried to do to her in the past. The memory of that incident almost made me retch, and if I had seen more than momentary surprise on her face, I think I would have. Instead, she stared a challenge right into my eyes, breath even, but heart beating like she'd just run ten miles.

"I want you, Buffy," I murmured, my face right above hers, breath tickling her nose. I writhed at the hips, grinding myself against her, which made her gasp. "The only question is…do you really want me? Or do you want Angel, and I'm just the only way you can have him?"

"Would you get mad," she whispered, "if I told you it was a little of both?"

The immediacy of her answer told me she'd been thinking along the same lines, and that she was telling the truth. She grew warmer in my arms, smelling sweetly of love and desire, making me thrust against her again, "How much do you want me, luv?" Alright, maybe I was having a little too much fun with this, but can you really blame a bloke?

"Guh," she groaned, pushing back against me. "More than I should, Spike."

"More than you want him?"

"At the moment?" Buffy reached up to kiss me fiercely, the slayer strength I loved from her throwing power into the kiss until she broke it off quickly, panting. "But in general? I want you both the same, Spike. I know it doesn't make sense, but I love you both. And I want you both, if you'll have me."

I pulled myself from her abruptly and she whimpered. "Good," I declared, convinced at least for the moment that Buffy had somewhat honorable intentions toward me, toward us. As I removed myself to the safety of the other side of the hotel room, I said, "However, you know I can't speak for Angel, luv. What say we finish this conversation with him?"

"Ugh! You bastard!" she smiled, throwing a pillow at me. "I can't believe in this situation, you're the tease!"

"What can I say, pet? I've changed."

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	16. Not Fade Away Part 4

_A/N: So this is officially my longest single fic, with the most comments, and it's just gotten a thousand hits! I'm glad for anyone who's still reading, and I hope to be able to move the plot along fairly quickly, but I also have a lot of ground to cover before the end. I hope you enjoy this installment, anyways!  
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Not Fade Away - Part 4

My first meeting as an official member of the Black Thorn was intense. I'd been playing Angelus for close to three weeks, trying to gain their trust after my initiation, and I wasn't exactly sure when or how to rein him back in. At least everything in my head agreed that the Black Thorn needed to be taken down right away. As Angelus, I never was much of a team player, except as far as family went, and even then Darla and I would split up for weeks or months at a time. But William – Spike – and I had worked well together more often than not, even when he thought he hated me or I thought I hated him. He'd always been able to gauge my intentions, my desires, my moods, fitting himself in beside me whatever they were. And I'd forgotten how seamless we used to be, on the hunt anyways.

God, I missed him! Being away from him hurt – mentally and physically. It used to be like this with Buffy, an aching hurt whenever I missed her. Now, I missed him even more than I missed her. Was that moving on? Pining over someone new? How long before my love for Spike caught up with me and my soul came unattached again? He wasn't a woman, but I could probably learn to be perfectly happy with Spike, given the opportunity. As much as I loved him, I knew I had to hold onto that tiniest part of myself that still loved Buffy. Because if I ever lost that and gave myself over to Spike completely, I knew everything else would fall away. And I would leave him alone with Angelus.

Angelus would kill Spike, given the opportunity. That I was sure of. He hated anything I loved, anything that made me feel human. And even though my blood called to Angelus from Spike's veins, my demon would overlook the pain of killing him for the pleasure of destroying something precious to me.

But deep down, even here as a member of the Black Thorn, I wasn't Angelus, as much as I played myself to be. And the ability to love? That was the big difference. As long as I could hold onto how much I loved Spike, I wouldn't forget myself here in the lion's den. And if I could hold onto the lie that I was a perfectly evil member of the Circle just until I got the message that Willow was ready, I might just be able to see him again.

So I went to a meeting when Hamilton asked it of me. The Circle of the Black Thorn sat me down on one end of the table, facing Lord Sebassus, with the rest of the members lined up on either side of the table between us. I followed along with their commencement chant as best I could and tried to remember who I was and why I was doing this. And again, I memorized the faces of the demons on either side of me, studying them as prey. Stalking from the shadows of recent disgusting acts and lies, so that when the time came to pounce, I would be ready.

"Angel," Lord Sebassus began once the meeting had officially started, "we are pleased you have joined us."

"It's a pleasure to be here," I replied with a careless smile. Never underestimate how much a careless demeanor throws off those who are stronger and more powerful than you. It makes them rethink just how much bigger and badder they really are. It makes them wonder what ace you've got up your sleeve and whether you're just bluffing or not. Worked on the Master, and it seemed to be working on these guys.

"You have passed every test we have placed before you, my boy," the demon praised, and I shrugged like it had been nothing. It was all about the attitude, and Angelus always had that in spades.

"And you have proven your loyalty by killing Drogan," Senator Dearborn added.

"Of course," Sebassus drawled. "But there is something more powerful than loyalty, I'm afraid." He signaled to Azrael at my left side, who pulled a familiar looking canister from his jacket pocket. "Hope," Sebassus concluded, as Azrael presented me with the scroll containing the Nyazian prophecies. Including the one about the vampire with a soul.

"This is the original prophecy, Angel," Sebassus told me. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but a commotion erupted on my right.

"Sebassus!" Cyrus Vale crowed, batting at the other demon's live blood supply. "Your manservant has become tangled in my bodily fluids, _again_!"

Keeping a scowl on my face, I pushed the blood servant back and away from the table, betting that Spike's last message about being very close to contacting Willow wasn't wishful thinking. Because with that one push, I set off the chain of events that would lead to the Apocalypse. With that one push, I injected Sebassus' servant with a time-delayed poison. In thirty-six hours, both servant and master would be dead and the war would begin.

"We need one last gesture of faith from you, Angel," Sebassus sneered at me, pulling the attention of the room back to the task at hand. "Because a paranoid demon would think your rapid turn toward our side was part of some misbegotten scheme to strike out at us."

Oh, but it was! However, I had to play along and get out of there intact. As much experience as I have at fighting, there was no way I could kill the rest of the demons all at once, right here and now. I had to wait until they were separated from one another, so I said with as much malice as I could dredge up, "If the next words out of your mouth are 'Kill Spike' we might just have to kiss."

A few of the members chuckled, since I'm sure the news of Spike's hasty departure from my life had made the rounds, but Sebassus kept a straight face and pointed to the scroll in front of me. "This prophecy guarantees you your humanity if you fight against us in the upcoming Apocalypse. To remove this _temptation_ and prove that you have our best interests in mind, we require your signature on the scroll. Once you sign, any chance you had to become human shall be nullified."

Hmm. My last chance at what I thought I wanted - to be human, to finally be what Buffy deserved from me – was sitting there under my nose. And I had to give it away. This thing, this dream that I'd been working for, struggling to gain for _years_, was over. To win this war I could never be human again, I would never get the chance to rid myself of these curses that kept me from being happy and _alive_.

But to lose my vampirism meant giving up Spike, at least as far as the status quo between us went. To never enjoy the taste of his blood as I did now? I didn't care if it meant missing out on peanut butter-chocolate ice cream and all the other foods humans loved. Spike's blood was the best thing I had ever tasted, and it only got better the closer we grew. He tasted of shivering pleasure, familial bonds, whispered nothings, ruthless fucking, and hopeful friendship. He tasted like love, in all its complex permutations. And I could not give that up.

"I have no desire to become human," I told the Circle, and I meant it. I didn't care that I could never be what Buffy wanted me to be. I didn't care that I would always crave the taste of human blood. I didn't care that I would always be a monster under my soul. I didn't care, because I had someone who loved me for everything I was _now_. I had Spike and I hoped he loved me even half as much as I loved him.

So I reached for the pen in Azrael's hand, ready to sign away the dream and accept reality, trying to hide how anxious my whole being was to just get this over with and get back to the plan. But instead of letting me take the pen, the devil stabbed my left hand with it, almost all the way through to the table, making me hiss softly in pain.

"It has to be signed in your own blood," Azrael told me, grinning maliciously and I glared at him, eager for the moment when I heard he had been killed. Because as much as I wanted to take this devil on myself, I knew I had much bigger fish to fry.

"I understand," I nodded, reaching for the pen and grunting as I pulled it from the flesh of my hand, and signed the scroll in my own blood. I doubted I'd live past the next few days, but if I did, at least Spike and I would have a chance. At least I wouldn't be the one to fuck things up by turning human.

**

Buffy and I had been sleeping in separate beds for the past week and a half, ever since we'd kissed. Just seemed safer that way, because I was about ready to fuck a Frophla demon, slime and all, if only I were sure Angel would never find out. But now I missed sleeping next to someone, and I kept waking up cold and alone every morning, or late afternoon as the case may be. Not that Angel was anywhere near the bed warmer that Buffy was, but at least he breathed while he slept. Of all the things I missed, it was the soddin' way the ponce _breathed_, the way the gentle whooshing of air in and out of that big chest of his gave the bed a comforting sense of motion. Back and forth, in and out. In and out. And bloody hell, now that fichus in the corner was lookin' mighty attractive.

To keep my mind busy and to keep from having to excuse myself to the bathroom, _again,_ I started puttin' the birthdates of all the musicians from my top ten bands in chronological order. Meanwhile, Buffy was watching a horrific 'reality' TV show, which I was trying to ignore because it didn't even make as much sense as _Passions_. And then, Buffy's phone rang from the corner. It probably wasn't Angel, right? He would call me, wouldn't he? And if it was him, something was wrong, because I hadn't yet given him the message that we were ready. Well, ready to take down the Senior Partners. I was more than ready to see him.

Ever since that talk I'd had with Buffy, I'd been thinking. And then wishing Angel was there to help me sort things out. If I could just get a sense of what was going through his head, how he was feeling about everything, maybe I would know where my head should be. Because right now, I was wavering back and forth between daydreams of the three of us happy together and wishing Buffy had never come to LA, or that I'd never fallen in love with her in the first place. O' course if I hadn't, I wouldn't have gotten my soul, and Angel would still hate me. Because he was under the same impression Buffy was the first time she and I had a go – that a soulless demon couldn't _really_ love, and didn't deserve love in return. _Now_ I was worthy, _now_ they both loved me.

So I loved Angel and I loved Buffy, but that didn't mean things between us were all happy puppies and daffodils right off the bat, did it? Especially considering Angel had really let her go, moved on like he'd said he was going to. Hadn't he? Oh sure, he still loved her more than he loved me, but it was more of a nostalgic love, wasn't it? He'd had five sodding years to get over her, and here I was with less than one year under my belt. I still loved her, bloody hell did I love her, and consequently my brain wasn't working so well, being in this room with her, going over that conversation over and over again in my head, being so horny and confused that I felt about five crayons short of the whole box. And not just the soddin' primary colors. Oh, no. This was the super deluxe edition with nancy color names like terra cotta and mauve. I bet Angel likes the fucking mauve crayon. That and black. Mmm, he looks good in black.

If Angel were just _here_, he could help sort things out. He could make me see that Buffy _was _being selfish, wanting us both back like nothing had ever happened. Without even proving she was ready. She _said_ she was ready. Hell, she said she loved me as much as she did Angel, which I _knew_ was a crock, but I still spent whole days letting myself believe it. I'm sure she loved me somewhat, at least. Maybe _she_ even believed what she'd said. It had certainly taken me long enough to catch on that it wasn't the whole truth, and Buffy had always been better at knowing how to kill physical demons rather than the demons in her head. But not literally in her head, of course. Not like Fred.

As a welcome stop off my mental merry-go-round, I wondered how the bint was doing. Angel was sure to be on everyone's last nerve by now, including Fred's, if everything were going according to plan. But they hadn't killed him yet. He was still out there, his blood calling to me, letting me know he was still standing, still in this dimension, still my sire and my love.

"Hey, Will," Buffy answered the telephone, sitting up and turning off the TV. Ah, the witch. Knew Angel would call me. But now that Willow was on the line, maybe we could get things moving. Maybe it wouldn't be too much longer until I got to see him again. Maybe it wouldn't be too much longer until I got to fuck him again.

"What, right now?" Buffy asked her friend. "Yeah, we can do that…does it have to be salt? ... Okay, lemme look." She went to the tray of room service food that we'd left near the door, picking up the salt shaker. "Is half a shaker-full enough? … Okay, hang on a minute." She set the phone down on the bed, looking around the room.

"Spike?" she asked. "Can you help me? We need to make a circle for Willow."

"Right," might as well make myself useful. "How big, then?"

"Big enough for a Willow-sized person."

Together we moved some of the furniture and made a rough circle out of salt on the carpet. Buffy picked the phone back up, saying, "Will? It's a little thin, d'ya think we should get more? ... Are you sure? ... Alright, see you in a minute." Buffy took my hand and led me to the far side of the room, away from the circle. "She said we might want to stand back."

"What's Red up to, pet?" I asked, pulling my hand from hers and trying not to do something stupid.

There was a loud crack and a flash of bright purple light from the circle, making me blink a few times, as I tried to clear my eyes of the giant spot in my vision. When I could see again, Willow was standing in the middle of the salt circle, smiling brightly.

"That," was Buffy's answer to my question, and then she was running to meet her friend. "Willow! Best of buds!" They hugged tightly, and I was briefly jealous that Willow could hug Buffy and I couldn't. Willow, for god's sake! I really needed Angel's help sorting my head out on this one.

In the meantime, I stepped toward the witch, saying, "Neat trick, Red."

"Spike!" Willow cried, pulling me into a tight hug. "I was so glad when I heard you were back!"

I patted the girl on the back, lightly, trying not to notice how nice she smelled. "Uh, thanks. Nice to see you, too, luv."

"Was that spell awesome or what?" she said, pointing back to the circle on the floor. "Thanks for the circle. I don't need one, but it's a lot easier to aim if I've got a target."

"No problem, Wills. I'm glad you could come."

"I'm super sorry it took so long to get your message. I told Kennedy to call me back to this dimension right away if she heard from you, but she was mad at me for going in the first place… Anyway, it was a big deal I don't want to get into."

"Are you guys okay?"

"We'll see," the witch said, enthusiasm waning under Buffy's concern. After a moment, she drew herself up again, smiling brightly as if nothing were wrong. "So, what's the sitch?"

"Apparently we've a mission sent from on high." Buffy turned to me, "Spike, you wanna fill Willow in on the story?"

"O' course, pet." I sat down on one of the beds, motioning the girls to sit on the other. "So you know how Angel's been working for these Powers That Be?" Willow nodded. "His connection to the powers was Cordelia, before she went all possessed and comatose. Then Cordy came back for one last hurrah, and passed the visions on to me."

"You're the new messenger?"

"Yeah. Someone up there has a sense of humor, because these messages come with blinding headaches. Less than a year since I had that bloody chip out."

Willow laughed giddily until I gave her a look. "Right," she mumbled. "Not so much funny, ha ha. Please, go on."

"And so Buffy here comes for a visit and … Hang on a sec," I stopped myself short. We had forgotten something. "Was there supposed to be a protection spell before I say this out loud?"

"Oh!" said Buffy, mock-hitting herself on the head. She turned to her friend, "We need your standard spy-proof protection spell."

"Like the one I made for Angel?"

"That was you, pet?" Willow nodded. "That little box has come in handy more than once, let me tell you." Actually, she probably didn't want to hear about most of those instances.

"Good," she said, smiling at my praise. "And, since you guys are supposed to be all hidey, I should cover up the signature left by my teleportation spell, so I don't give away this position."

"Did you need anything, Will?" Buffy asked her friend. "Supplies?"

"I can do a one-time spell sans ingredients, if you need something fast."

"If it's not too much trouble?"

"No. No trouble," Willow noticed Buffy's disbelieving look and added, "I promise. I just need bodies."

"Like from a graveyard, luv?" I smirked, before realizing that sometimes sarcasm tends to fly right over that girl's head.

Completely seriously, she replied, "No, you guys will do." Then the witch moved from the bed and sat on the floor, waving us to do the same. "Okay, I need everyone to hold hands in a circle." We did as asked, Buffy on my right and Willow on my left. Starting the spell, Willow bowed her head and took several deep, slow breaths. When she brought her head back up, her eyes were completely black.

"_Refuscatus_," she intoned, voice husky and lower than normal. The magic worked right away, causing a slight breeze as the whole room darkened a bit, like the world had dimmed down a notch. When Willow blinked, her eyes returned to normal.

"Is it just me," asked Buffy, "or did it get darker in here?"

"Yeah," I agreed, blinking and looking around. It was like I was wearing shades, or the room was very smoky.

"That's just how the spell works," said Willow, matter-of-factly. "So what's the rest of the story?"

I told her as much as I could, leaving out the parts about Angel and I pretty much living together. And that night we spent with Buffy.

"So we're attacking the Wolf, Ram, and Hart? Man, you guys have some major _cajones_."

"If this is how the Powers want us to fight evil, maybe you should credit _them_ with the _cajones_," I told her, choosing not to think too much about how dangerous this fight was gonna be. And how I might _never_ get to see Angel again. But oh, wait. Red was talking again.

"Did your vision say exactly what I'm supposed to do, or do we still need a plan?"

"I remember that there were hundreds of demons, luv, and you closed some sort of shimmery magical gate."

"Hmm, they must have opened an inter-dimensional portal, to move an army of demons here."

"A fuckin' bad-ass demon army we'll have to take down if we want to survive, ducks. At least Buffy's been contacting the slayers, bringin' them on board as well."

"Hmm," she muttered. "Lots of demons? Yeah, probably best to bring in the professionals." After another thoughtful pause, the witch said, "I'll have to gather the supplies I'll need to close a portal. And I'm thinking we may need a more permanent solution."

"What d'ya mean?"

"I'm getting an idea, but I'd like to work on it for a bit before I share. Just in case it's completely stupid."

"Sure," assured Buffy, "whatever you think is best."

"Does this window open?" Willow asked, peeking her head behind the shades. I stepped into the far corner if the room, where I would be safe from any errant sunbeams. "It does! This obscuring spell should last for at least another day, so you guys can do all the planning you need to do. I'm gonna go for supplies."

"Do you need any help? I could call Sarah, the local Slayer Captain, if you need help finding anything. Or someone to watch your back. I'd do it, but Spike and I are supposed to be in Rome, not traipsing around LA on a shopping spree."

"Aw, thanks, Buffy, but I'm good. I know a place." Willow opened the window and started climbing out.

"Uh, pet?" I asked. "You do know we're on the tenth floor?"

Willow smiled at me proudly, "I know. I'll be back in a few hours." And with that, she jumped out the window.

"Agh!" I yelled, my shock and morbid curiosity making me want to run up to the window and watch her fall. Because of the sunlight, I couldn't. "What just happened?" I asked Buffy, who didn't look concerned in the least.

"Oh, sorry, Spike!" she apologized with chagrin, "I forgot to tell you."

"Tell me what, exactly, pet?"

"That Willow learned how to fly." Buffy's bright, proud smile dazzled and infected me, and I smiled back at her.

"Red learned how to fly! The wonders never cease, with you Scoobies, do they?"

"Not since I've been on the team," she deadpanned, taking one last glance out the window before shutting out the sunlight. Buffy always seemed to end up in the dark, didn't she? That suited me just fine.

"So," she said, sitting down on the bed closer to the window, "Lots of demons are coming to LA, huh?"

I sat on the other bed, facing her, trying to keep myself in check, to keep my hands off of her. "That's what I saw, luv."

"So everyone's probably gonna want to get outta Dodge afterward."

"If there is an afterward." God, I hoped there was an afterward. preferably one with Angel in it. But I knew better than to let my hopes get too high. "This apocalypse might be _the_ Apocalypse. There was no ending in my vision, happy or tragic. There was just war."

"We have an army for this Apocalypse. And maybe, with Willow's bright idea and a helluva lot of Slayers, we can beat this thing back."

"Well, if that does happen, kitten, I'd love to get out of this town. Too much bloody sunshine."

"You should come to Scotland," Buffy said, looking down at her hands as if afraid of my answer. "At least until you and Angel make a new plan, whether it includes me or not. We've got plenty of space."

"You really set up operations in an old castle?"

"Yeah," she smiled, relaxing even though I hadn't agreed to her invitation yet. "We've got an operations room, barracks, training grounds, a dungeon, enough space in the courtyard for Dawn. Everything."

"Little Bit is staying in the courtyard? All the proper beds for slayers only?"

Buffy giggled. "No. She's come down with a major case of the 'giants'. I think Xander measured her at sixty feet tall? It's something we're working on."

"Dawn's a giant." I laughed, smirking at her. "And you were upset when she was only _three inches_ taller than you!"

"I know," she laughed. It was a nice change of mood from the past week or so. It was nice to have her smiling at me, even if next time I say Angel, I would let him talk me out of being with her.

Sadly, I admitted, "That's something I'd love to see, pet – if we get out of this alive."

"So, you'll come home with me?" Buffy looked so hopeful and I wondered how she could think surviving would be that easy. O' course she has died twice.

I wanted to kick myself for the way our last big life-changing conversation went. Because now she thought being with me and Angel would be that easy, too. I just couldn't bring myself to shatter her illusions quite yet. Not when we all needed something to look forward to.

"We'll have to talk to Angel first, Buffy. See where he'd like to go. 'Cause when this is all over, I'm planning on sticking as close to him as inhumanly possible. For the next decade at least." As my mouth did the talking, I wondered if telling her how much I missed the bastard would hurt her feelings.

Well, too bad if it did. As much as I wanted Buffy, I wanted him more. Why else would I have kept my hands to myself for almost three bloody weeks? This was hell, wasn't it? Maybe I'd staked myself in a fit of madness after all this waiting and now I was in hell. Because less than a year after having the best night of my life with Buffy, I belonged to and was loyal to someone else. And no amount of torturing me by locking me in the same room as her was gonna change that fact. Even if she did want me. Even if she wanted me and my boyfriend. Even if I was almost desperate enough to ask her to go at it like a pair of bunnies. Almost desperate enough, but not quite. Not when I could imagine the look on Angel's face when he found out, all deep eyes and furrowed brow and angry pursed lips. God, I missed those lips!

"Right. Of course," she said, not hurt at all. Like my need to check with Angel was the most natural thing in the world, not like she was upset I needed him more than I needed her. Good. I was glad she realized that, because there were a lot of things Angel and I could do without, but the girl of our dreams getting between us was paramount. Right above 'deadly demon-war apocalypse' and 'a replacement copy of Barry Manilow's Greatest Hits'. Because if the tosser got that one back, he would just start singing to it again, and you really don't want to hear Angel singing. Which is why I got rid of the bloody album in the first place. Along with the rest of his music.

Bloody hell, I would gladly listen to Angel's rendition of the whole fucking album, if only he were in the room with me.

Buffy continued, "If he agrees, you can both come home with me. With _us_. To Scooby Central, you know. Home of all the best do-gooders. Where slayers are slaying and new Watchers are … watching. And we've got a coven of witches, and Dawn the giant, and…" I stopped her with a hand over hers.

"Buffy, pet, you're rambling. Just try to relax until we hear back from Angel, okay? I'll leave another message with the front desk, telling him we're just about ready on this end."

"Good. Right. Good, you do that Spike," her ramble finished with a nod and I drew my hand away again. Because the way she was looking up at me, I knew I wouldn't be able to hold off on kissing her for much longer.

So, first order of bloody business was to leave a message for Angel and hope he got it sometime soon, second was to avoid dying in a sodding demon war, and third was to figure out what the fuck to do afterward.

Maybe Angel and I could go to Scotland. Maybe that's where we were supposed to go next, to help all the little slayers fight evil. I mean, if we could bring down Wolfram and Hart, we'd have to ply our trade somewhere, right? Though maybe Angel and I could find a small corner of the world to settle down in, away from all the slayer mayhem, away from Buffy, to just be with each other. Ah, who am I kidding? I'd get bored of that life in a week, maybe less if there was nothing good on the telly. And even though this fight against the Senior Partners was big and suicidal, I had no illusions. If we won and I survived, the Powers that Be wouldn't give up the tap they had into my brain, would they? Nope, I was definitely their bitch, and what ruddy god would give up a brain like mine? I mean, not everyone can handle gettin' jack-hammered in the skull more than once in a lifetime, now can they? And visions delivered directly to the slayer army would certainly streamline the fight against the evils in this world.

And I had to admit, though being here with Buffy, unable to touch her, was painful, I knew it was worse being away from her. It was worse not being able to see her every day. It was worse knowing she was so lonely and not being able to do something about it. Bloody hell, I wanted to do something about it, especially if it would make Angel happy. Especially if Buffy could prove that she deserved us. If this thing with the three of us didn't work once we got to Scotland, at least then I'd know. At least then Angel and I could really move on.

* * *

_Please don't forget to review._


	17. Not Fade Away Part 5

Not Fade Away - Part 5

My phone finally rang in the middle of the night, while Buffy and Willow were sleeping and I was keeping watch. With beer. Fingers trembling, I flipped open the phone, anxious to hear his voice. "Ange, luv?" Buffy stirred, waking up and Willow followed soon after.

"Hey, Spike," Angel said, sounding tired and depressed. "Secure on your end?"

"Yeah, Red's got the whole place cloaked," I replied, just basking in the sound of his voice, depressed or not. "How 'bout you?"

"It's safe to talk," he replied. "I got your last message. Are you all set to do this?"

"Yeah, sure, mate. You already know Willow's here and you can talk to Buffy about the slayers," I said, turning away from the girls and toward the door. Lowering my voice, I sighed, "But first, talk to me for a bit. How are you holdin' up, pet?"

"I don't know. This whole thing is getting more and more horrific. But I did it, I'm in."

"So your plan worked then, eh, luv? Send me away, act like a bastard and the baddies just give you the keys to the castle, hmm?"

"It wasn't _just_ anything, Spike." Angel sounded angry, and I knew it was the shade of angry he uses when he's feeling guilty. "I had to kill Drogan to get initiated into the Circle. There was just no other choice."

Ah, hence the guilt. "Drogan? Your friend from the Deeper Well?"

Angel sighed his regretful sigh, "Well, I wouldn't have called him a friend, but he was a good man."

"Indeed," I agreed, pausing to give him a moment. "I'm sorry, mate. Is everything else going pretty much to plan?"

"Yeah, sure. Just about ready to jump out of the frying pan here. I was glad to get your message, hon. I had an opportunity to set this thing in motion earlier tonight and I took it. No going back now."

"Shit, Angel," I said, letting my smirk into my voice, "you are one cocky bastard! Without even knowing the plan was good to go on our end?"

"Hey!" he replied, taking the joke well. "I'll have you know, I had faith that you guys would be ready sooner rather than later. Besides, I know you, Will. You hate waiting for proper timing. Any longer and I'm sure you'd be out on the streets again, killing whatever demons you could find, Black Thorn or not, just to cause a ruckus."

I chuckled because he was right, the tosser, which made him hum in response. Oh, god, I missed his voice, especially the murmuring noises he made when I kissed down his neck.

Needing to change the subject before I embarrassed myself in front of the girls, I asked, "How's the peanut gallery? Not killed you yet, I hear."

"Nah," he grumped. "I had to bring them in on the plan about a week ago. Everyone's okay, I guess. Fred and Illyria are way too confusing without you here," we shared a sad laugh. "And Gunn and Lorne are pretty upset, but they're on board, at least. After I hang up with you and Buffy, I have to call a meeting with them. Hand out assignments."

"Good." I paused and Angel didn't fill the gap. Finally, needing to remind him how much he meant to me, I whispered, "I miss you."

Almost right away, he breathed, "God, me too." I could almost hear his slow smile, clouded by sad eyes. "I love you," he said softly.

"Don't do that, Angel," I replied, bringing the phone with me into the bathroom to escape Buffy's eyes as she watched me. I needed to talk to him freely, without having to think about what I could say in front of her.

"What? Tell you how I feel?" he asked, getting angry and defensive. "This whole separation thing was supposed to be temporary! I know it was my idea, but apparently you just took it as an excuse. It's been difficult enough _pretending_ to have a broken heart, you know! Now what?"

I heaved a put upon sigh at how insecure he was being, "No, you ponce! I'm not leaving you. I meant, don't make your goodbyes. Don't tell me you love me just 'cause we might never see each other again."

"That's not why I said it," Angel replied. "I've just…I've spent too long not saying it, and now that I _can_ say it and you're not _here_ to say it to…God, it's driving me crazy."

"Oh. So what was it you wanted to say, again?" I asked, letting my voice convey some humor.

It worked because he actually laughed, though I could hear wetness in his voice that meant tears. "Spike," he said with a warning.

"Yes?" I kept the word low, soft, anticipating.

"William." Angel spoke my name reverently, and I almost heard a little bit of his old Irish lilt when he told me, "I love you."

"Oh, Ange," I said, tearing up like a bleedin' poof. "Me, too."

"What is this, 'Ghost'?" he huffed in frustration, almost angry. "When are you gonna say it? The actual word?"

I laughed, because I was imagining how he looks when he's upset with me, usually somewhere between furious and amused. "I wasn't sure you'd actually seen any movies that came out in color, luv."

"So? When?" Damn. He was dead serious now. Getting all huffy and blustery.

"When I see you in person," I answered, trying not to huff back at him. "I'm not sayin' it over the bleedin' telephone. And besides, I wanted something to look forward to, Angel, something to fight for."

"Oh," he replied, surprised. "I…okay. That's a good reason."

He sounded touched and impressed or something, so I laughed a little. "What can I say, pet? I'm a fuckin' romantic at heart."

"You certainly are," he agreed, sighing. After a few moments of silence, Angel asked, "Spike?"

"Yeah, luv?"

"Have you been having really strong cravings? For me, I mean?"

"It's called withdrawal, git. And, yeah, I have."

"Withdrawal," he breathed.

"Blood withdrawal, sex withdrawal. Bloody hell, I miss you!"

"Sex withdrawal?" I almost laughed at the mixture of yearning and embarrassed indignation in his question.

"Say, pet?" I asked before he could start teasing me or scolding me. "You wouldn't mind helpin' me out with that, would you?"

"Spike, you know we can't see each other until we make our move against the Senior Partners. They're watching me every chance they get."

"No," I whispered huskily, "I was thinkin' you just talk to me for a bit. Tell me what you would do, were you here, Ange."

He laughed at me, but I could tell he was thinking about it. I could almost hear the gears grinding under that thick skull. "You can't tell me you love me over the phone, but phone sex is okay?"

"I'm desperate," I replied, grinning though he couldn't see me, "and a little drunk."

"Didn't you just tell me you were in a hotel room with Willow and Buffy?"

"I'm in the bathroom, pet. We're alone enough. C'mon, _please_?"

"God," he groaned. "I love it when you beg." After a short and tension-laden pause, Angel asked, "And you and Buffy haven't …?"

"D'ya think I've a death wish, Peaches?" I responded right away, reassuring him that he had nothing to worry about on my end.

"Good," he sighed, sounding relieved. "I mean, thank you. I know it couldn't be easy."

"You have no idea. I've been a saint."

He breathed a soft chuckle and then a sigh. "I actually don't have any time, _cor_."

"What?" I whined. At least he wasn't disagreeing on principle. "Why not?"

"Don't pout," he chastised, and I laughed. "I have to give you guys orders and then get everything and everyone else set. We're working against the clock, here. Besides, do you really want what's probably the last time we'll have sex to be over the phone?"

"Fuck, pet," I hissed, mad that he couldn't be here, that he didn't have enough time for me after three weeks of being apart. Mad that he didn't think we'd survive. "Don't say that! We'll make it through," I tried to sound convincing, but I knew better. I'd been the one to have that vision, the one who'd seen what was actually gonna happen. I knew how slim our chances were. But Angel needed a reason, just like I did. To fight, to win, to stay alive.

"You don't know that," he said, his voice rough.

"Maybe I do, luv," I sighed as he scoffed. "In any case. You're right. Let's just plan on next time we're together, once this is all over, I'll tell you what you want to hear and we'll fuck each other six ways from Sunday. Give us both somethin' to look forward to."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed with a small laugh. "Hopefully I'll see you by this time tomorrow."

"Oh, thank you, pet!" I sighed in relief. "If I lose one more marble waiting to see you again…"

Angel chuckled softly before saying, "We're striking the Black Thorn tonight, after sundown. I know who all the members are now, and I've got assignments for everyone, you included."

"Alright, Angel," I sighed, torn between wanting to get everything over with and wanting to keep him on the line with me as long as possible. "Let's have it, then."

"Do you remember the Fel Brethren from last month?"

"Those blokes who wanted the baby?"

"Yeah. I need you get the kid and dismember the foster family. And then you'll bring the baby back to its mother. I've got the addresses. Can you write them down?"

"Sure," I said, leaving the bathroom and nodding to both Buffy and Willow as I passed them to grab the pad of paper and pen from next to the phone on the nightstand. "Go ahead, luv." He gave me the addresses for the Fel Brethren and for the mother.

"While I'm playing stork, what's Buffy gonna do?" Buffy looked up at me at the mention of her name, expression saying she was anxious to talk to him.

"I need her to help Illyria, just in case. And I've got an assignment for Willow."

"Besides the big light show?"

"There's a member who's a powerful wizard. I can't send anyone else after him."

Willow was important to the plan. Sure, she was an expert witch and all, but to risk our best asset going after one of the Black Thorn? I sure hoped that cocky bastard knew what he was doing. "Well, if this goes creeky on us, I'm blamin' you, luv."

"Creeky? Spike, what does that even mean?"

"As in up a…"

"Right. Sure," he sighed. "Full responsibility on my shoulders. What else is new?"

"Stop that! You can brood when this is over, Angel. I won't even tease you about it. Much."

Laughing again sadly, he said, "Thanks, Spike. You're such a pal."

"Alright, Peaches. I'll turn you over to the Slayer. Don't die before I see you next, yeah?"

"Don't you die on me, either. And, precious?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry I can't be with you, but I want you to try to have a good day. It's probably the last."

"Not necessarily the last, but we'll try to make it count," I assured him, wondering what the hell I could do here in the hotel room that I hadn't been doing for the past three weeks. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too. I'm gonna go pay Connor a visit in Palo Alto, but I'll be back before sundown."

"Good luck, pet. I …" I cleared my throat. "Well, you know. Here's Buffy." I escaped into the bathroom again so the girls wouldn't see me cry. Over my stupid bloody boyfriend who seemed convinced we'd all be dead soon. Over that fucking wanker who'd better fight his ass off staying alive for me. Because I was serious when I told Angel I'd find him in hell and kill him again. Especially since, at this point, I was fairly certain that if he dusted, I'd be just moments behind him, either at the hands of the big bad, or at my own. Bugger all.

I sat down on the toilet, with my head in my hands, and trying not to listen to Buffy talking to my Angel in that voice. The one that said she loved him. The one she'd used with me the day we had our conversation. The one she'd used when she said she loved me.

Then, there was a knock on the door. Buffy's voice was still further away, so I asked, "Whaddya want, Red?"

"Spike? Can I come in?"

"Sure," I sighed, wiping the tears from my cheeks and trying not to look like such a nancy. "Whatever."

"Thanks," she nodded, joining me in the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. As Willow leaned against the long counter, she told me, "The conversation in there is getting a little intense …"

"Fuck," was my only response. Was Buffy trying to have a big-picture, life-changing discussion with him, today? I thought we'd agreed to talk to Angel together. And after our suicidal attack on the forces of evil was over.

"Well, you know those two," she said carefully, watching my face with a concerned furrow in her brow, "it's always about the drama."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"So, what's going on between you?" Willow asked, hopping up to sit on the counter next to the sink.

"Nothing," I insisted, mostly telling the truth. "Buff and I are just working together this time 'round."

"No," she shook her head. "You and Angel. The way you were talking to him…"

"Oh," I nodded, looking down and trying to hide my affectionate smile at the mention of him and me.

"There's an 'oh'? 'Cause last I heard, you weren't Angel's biggest fan."

"No, I think that crown still belongs to the Slayer in there," I agreed, pointing toward the main room where Buffy was still speaking.

"But?"

"But," I smirked, looking straight up at Willow, meeting her eyes, "Ange and I have been seeing each other. I'm his now."

"Seeing each other? And you're his what?" she asked, like she already knew the answers but wanted me to say them out loud for my own good. Cheeky lass.

"I'm his boyfriend, for lack of a better word," I told her, refusing to be ashamed, leaning back and resting my shoulders on the cool toilet tank, crossing my arms over my chest, and crossing my ankles out in front of me, wondering what the bint would do.

Willow smirked right back at me and said, "Well, at least you've got good taste."

I barked a laugh in response, "Thanks, duck."

"Anytime," she smiled back, her expression full of humor and understanding.

Sighing and thinking about Angel's hopelessness again, I asked her, "You really think you can do this, Red?"

"I'm not a hundred percent certain."

"If you had to hazard a guess?"

"I'd give us a good ten percent chance of making it out the other side," she chuckled, but I could tell she wasn't exaggerating our odds. "Oh! Which reminds me," she said, jumping down from the corner and opening the door, "I've got to talk to Angel before Buffy lets him hang up. If you'd rather have him alive once my spell is done, that is."

"Yes, I rather think I would like the git hale and hearty when I see him next," I agreed, adding a smidge of suggestion to the words and leering a bit.

Willow just shook her head at me and stepped into the main room, leaving me be. Alone with my thoughts. After sundown, in about fifteen hours, I'd be kicking some demon ass. And probably about seventeen hours from now, I'd be begging Angel to take me, rough and less than romantic, probably in the first corner with a decent patch of privacy, just to erase the past few weeks and get back to what we were. Back to being us.

* * *

As soon as I got back to the office, I called Spike's hotel, asking for any new messages. And, lo and behold, Spike's code said they were almost ready. Willow was in town, slayers were in town, all we had to do was strike. After calling and talking to Spike, which was reassuring and painful at the same time, he handed the phone over to Buffy.

"Angel?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm here," I replied, not quite sure how to talk to her.

"How are you?"

"I'm…" Scared to death. Desperately lonely. Always going to be a vampire. Worried about Spike. "… fine. I'm fine."

"Yeah, me too," she said, her voice small, trying to hide the vulnerability. "Though Spike's in pretty bad shape. He really misses you."

"I really miss him, too," I confessed, but quickly changed the subject. "Look, I need to know how many slayers you can get here by sundown tonight."

"Slayers. Right," Buffy said shortly. "We've already got ten here in town, and another eight or so on the east coast. I could probably get them here by sundown."

"Perfect," I sighed. "There are a good fifteen or so Black Thorn members. I've already taken out one, or he should be dead soon, anyways. I'm going to send you in with Fred, because she's pretty strong, but I need someone I trust to keep an eye on her. Make sure she makes it out alive."

"Fred is the girl I met at your office?"

"Yeah, and a dear friend, Buffy. She's got a demon's memory, so she's turning into quite a fighter. But I know she's going to need your help."

"Sure thing, Angel, whatever you need."

I gave her directions for when and where to meet Fred. "I'll also need two or three slayers to help Gunn, and a few more to take out another nest of demons."

"Done and done."

"Great, thanks Buffy." There was an awkward pause, until finally I asked, "May I speak to Willow now?"

"In a minute, Angel. I've just been thinking. What sort of escape plan do you have? I know the idea is to vanquish all the evil, make LA safe as houses. But even if we are successful, Spike is pretty sure this place is going to be one hell of a mess after the war."

"It's my job to finish this fight, Buffy."

"Like hell it is!" she said, raising her voice. "The fight is never over, Angel. You should know that."

"I do."

"So your job is to make one damn good strike at them and then live to fight another day."

"Maybe it's just my time, Buffy. I've lived a lot longer than most. And, it's destiny. You should know all about that."

"Okay, maybe you're supposed to fight," she snarled. "But I don't care if you'd lived a thousand years, Angel. It's not enough. You can't just give up. Did Spike hear you speaking like this? You know, he's crying in the bathroom because of you."

"He is?"

"You bet your fangs, bucko."

I sighed. "God, I'm horrible at this."

"At what?" Buffy asked, her voice softer now.

"I don't know. Relationships. Loving people. I thought it best if Spike didn't get his hopes up."

"Believe me, Angel. Spike's hopes weren't up in the first place. He knows what's coming, probably better than either of us. He's seen it."

"So telling him I probably won't see him again was bad?" I laughed.

"Yeah, it was bad. And I fail to see the humor in the situation, which is odd for me. Usually Buffy is all quick with the jokes."

"It's not that," I told her. "I'm sorry. I just realized who I'm taking advice from."

"Hey!" she said, a little laughter creeping into her voice. "I'm not that bad at relationships. I seem to remember the first one going fairly well, except for the mayhem and the killing. Besides, I know Spike."

"Yeah, you do. Probably almost as well as I know him," I admitted. It felt almost nice, talking to her about Spike. But I kept wondering when the other shoe was going to drop, when she was going to ask for him back. "You understand him?"

"A little. I know he feels everything so deeply. It's something I've always envied."

"Why?" I asked her. "You feel, Buffy. I've seen it."

She sighed, "It's just been more and more difficult with every year that goes by."

I let a moment go by in silence, both of us ruminating on the issue. Eventually though, I had to say something. "Does he ever do things that make you just want to wring his neck?"

"Oh my god!" she laughed. "Yes! I thought it was just me. But it was all before the soul. He came back different."

"Really?" I asked her. "Because by the time he got to LA, he was pretty much his old self. Except, not evil."

"You must bring it out of him," she chuckled.

"Must," I murmured, agreeing with her. "Is it weird talking with one ex about the other?"

"A little," she sighed. "But I'm glad we're talking. It's nice."

"It is." Another silence grew between us, steadily more awkward.

Finally, Buffy cleared her throat and said, "Spike just needs you to believe in him and in yourself. He …_ we_ need you to make it out of this alive, Angel. I'm giving you no other options."

I chuckled again. "Were you always this bossy?"

"Hey! And, yes. Probably. Which is why you're going to survive and you're going to help me come up with an escape plan. I've already talked to Spike, but you need to hear this, too."

"Hear what?" I asked suspiciously. "What's this escape plan?"

"I'd really like it if you and your people would come back to Scotland with me, at least until everything blows over."

Thinking of a few plans I'd already set in motion, I said, "It would probably be best to get out of the country and into hiding when this thing is done."

"Great! Even if it's just for a few days. We've got plenty of room. I just can't figure out how to get everyone back there. I mean, commercial air travel isn't exactly vamp friendly."

"I might have a solution for that," I told her. "I'll make some calls."

"We're not taking a steamship are we? Because I am too young to go down with the Titanic."

"I was thinking some 'grand theft airplane' would be in order. I'll set it up."

"Okay. If that's what you think is best."

Sighing I said, "Tell Spike I said I'll see him later. And I'll see you too, Buffy. In the alley behind the Hyperion Hotel once your targets are dead."

"The Hyperion? Your old digs?"

"Yeah, I've still got some emergency supplies stashed there. Besides, it's a good stronghold for the battle."

"Until the battle then," she said, and I could almost hear her brisk nod. "Good luck, Angel."

"You too, Buffy."

"Good – Oh! Willow wants to talk to you. Goodbye."

"Bye," I breathed softly, praying that she wouldn't be killed after being sucked into _my_ war. But I was glad to have her on my side again. Glad to know that even when I decided to throw caution to the wind and follow through with this crazy plan the Powers that Be gave us, she would fight with me. Side by side, shoulder to shoulder. And God, I missed that.

* * *

_Drawing ever closer to the end!_


	18. Not Fade Away Part 6

Not Fade Away – Part 6

I knew that once we did this thing, once we killed the members of the Black Thorn, there was a good chance I would die. There was a good chance all of my people would die. There was a good chance the world would end. We needed a day. One day to say goodbye to the world. So, I called my people and told them to meet me at Fred's apartment.

Once there, I gazed around at them. Gunn looked tired, but ready to go. Illyria was trying to stack Fred's coffee cups into some sort of tower. And Lorne just looked ready to wet himself.

"It's time," I told them. "We do this thing just after sunset."

"You've got orders for us, Boss?" Gunn asked, fidgeting.

"Gunn, you'll take Senator Dearborn and her vamp assistants. I'm having a few slayers meet you there, but you'll have first dibs on the Senator if you want."

He nodded, a small smile on his face. "I was hoping it would be vamps. I haven't dusted nearly enough this year, no offense."

I shook my head at him and turned to Illyria. "Hey, demon-god. You got a minute?"

Fred turned around then, a scared smile on her face. "What are we after?"

"Azrael, the devil, dines with three other Black Thorn members every night. Here's the address," I said, handing her a piece of paper. "Buffy will meet you there and you'll take the four of them together."

"Sure. We could do it on our own."

"I know," I nodded. "But I'd rather you didn't have to."

"What about me, Angelcakes?" Lorne asked, voice trembling a little.

"You'll just be backing up another team of slayers at a demon nest."

"And Spike?" Gunn asked me.

"Fel Brethren," I answered shortly, trying not to think about the possibility that he wouldn't make it out. He was a survivor, right?

"What about you, Angel?" Fred asked me, carefully disassembling Illyria's tower of mugs.

"The official story is that I'm going after Lord Sebassus."

"And the unofficial story?" Lorne asked me, wincing like he didn't want to know the answer.

"Hamilton is the one I really need to deal with. I've already poisoned Sebassus."

"That guy is scary, Angel," Lorne replied. "Are you sure you don't need help with him?"

"I'll take care of it," I told him, hoping I was telling the truth.

"And what about afterwards?" Fred asked, hugging her arms and trying to look brave.

"Anyone who survives, meet in the alley behind the Hyperion. We'll make another stand there until Willow does her thing. Oh!" I started, searching my pockets for the trinkets Willow had sent. I handed one to Lorne, "Wear this until everything's over," I told him.

"We don't get fancy jewelry?" Gunn asked me, sounding like he didn't care either way.

"Not unless you're a demon," I told him.

"What about having a demon's memory?" Fred asked.

Pulling another trinket from my pocket, I told her, "That's why I've got this one." I slipped the chord over her head, letting the pendant of crystal and feathers fall against her chest.

"You've got one too, right babe?" Lorne asked, sounding worried I'd given up my last protection charm for Fred.

"Yeah, I've got one," I showed it to him.

"What is it for?" Gunn asked me, taking a closer look at Fred's pendant.

"Let's just say," I sighed. "Today is _not_ a good day to be a demon in LA. At least not without wearing one of these things." Putting the trinket back in my pocket, I changed the subject. "I want you guys to take the day off."

"We're about to pick the fight of our lives," Gunn cried. "Shouldn't we be preparing?"

"We'll be ready," I assured him. "But there's still today. And it might be the last, so I want you to go live it."

Everyone nodded sadly and I turned to leave, to go start my last day. Then, Lorne stopped me, a hand on my wrist. "I won't be there, Ange. Afterwards? I'll do this one last thing, and then I'm done. I'm getting out of here."

God, the despair in his voice was almost more than I could bear, and I couldn't even blame him. Nodding I said, "Good luck, Lorne."

"You too, big guy," he nodded, letting me go and watching me leave Fred's apartment.

There was one more thing I had to do before going to see my son, so I picked up the phone and dialed her number. "Hi Nina," I said when she answered. "Can we meet?"

* * *

When Nina and I met in the park, it was almost dawn and the approaching sun was making my skin itch. We sat in the shade of a bridge, just in case things got long-winded, and I pulled an envelope out of my pocket, handing it to her. Without Nina noticing, I also pulled out a little silver matchbox and slid it open, keeping our conversation private.

"What's this?" Nina asked, opening the envelope with steady fingers. "Plane tickets?"

"Something bad is happening today, Nina," I told her. "Tonight. I want you to take your sister and your niece on vacation, right away this morning."

"What's going on Angel? What's this something bad?"

"Just get out of town. Please."

Shaking her head, Nina said, "I don't get you, Angel. You broke it off with me almost four months ago right when things were going really well! And now you're giving me a vacation in the Caribbean? It doesn't make sense."

Sighing, I said, "I know. But just because I wasn't right for you doesn't mean I don't care about you, Nina."

"Who said you weren't right for me? I sure as hell didn't say that."

"Look," I said, getting exasperated with her, "I had to leave, for your safety and mine. And I think I was meant to, because I found who I'm supposed to be with."

"And it's not me," she nodded, more angry than sad. "And now you're kicking me out of town?"

"Just for a week or so, until everything blows over."

"Who is she? Who is this girl you're so in love with?"

"Uh," I stammered. "Would it make you feel better if I told you it was a man?"

Nina laughed, and then her face grew uncertain. "Wait. You're serious?"

I nodded, sighing.

"Is it someone I know?"

"Um, do you ever remember meeting Spike?" Just saying his name made me ache with how much I missed him.

"That other vampire?" she asked, her anger disappearing, and I nodded. "Yeah, I've seen him. I thought he hated you."

"He just has parental issues," I sighed.

"What does that mean?" Nina asked with a laugh, more genuinely friendly this time.

I wasn't sure I should be talking with her about this, but her manner had relaxed as the conversation went on, and now she was acting more like the laid back art student I knew her to be. And it felt nice talking about Spike for once, not having to pretend he'd left me for Buffy. "I'm pretty much his sire."

"Meaning his _father_? Okay, now I'm glad I became a werewolf and not a vampire when I got attacked! That is messed up," Nina chuckled, letting me know she was teasing.

"Not exactly," I defended myself with a laugh. "He's more like a younger brother…wait, that's not any better is it?"

"No, it's really not."

"Well, it's a vampire family thing. He looked up to me and when I got cursed and had to leave … Let's just say it took him a long time to forgive me. And now he's got his soul back too, so we're the same. Sort of. The bonds of family just mean so much, it's hard to explain."

"No, I get it," she said, patting my hand. "Spike means a lot to you."

"Everything," I muttered.

"God, I should have known," she laughed again. "I remember you two bickering like an old married couple the last time I visited. You don't see that much animosity without at least some unresolved sexual tension."

"Married couple?" I asked indignantly, though she was right about the sexual tension being thick between us for a long time.

"You know what? Knowing you left me for a male vampire does make me feel better, oddly." She smirked. "But if he wasn't around?"

"I still would have left. I'd still be sending you out of town, Nina. It's just too dangerous for you here."

"What about the rest of the people? I mean, I don't have any other family, but I have friends here. Will they be okay?"

"I hope so," I replied, "but I really don't know. Would you please just do this for me? Go pack a suitcase, get to the airport and take your family away from here?"

"Yeah," she said with a smile. "Yeah, I'll go. Though I am sorry it didn't work out between us."

"Me too," I nodded, taking her hand in mine and giving it a little squeeze. If only I didn't need Spike and Buffy to fight with me, I would have sent them away, too. As it was, I wouldn't rest easy until this whole thing was over and they were both safe. Or until we all died, which was a scenario I found more plausible.

* * *

Speaking of people whom I wanted to keep safe, I boarded a Wolfram and Hart jet just after dawn and went to go see my son. Working on info I'd gotten from his roommate, Tyler – who smelled _way_ too much like marijuana for my liking – I found Connor working in a coffee shop near campus. As I got into the shade of the store, I opened that little silver box again. This conversation, this time with my son, was just for me. Not for any Wolfram and Hart flunkies who may be keeping an eye on me.

"Hi Connor," I said softly, getting his attention.

My son looked up at me, a flash of recognition playing over his face as he sat up, setting down his pen. "Angel. Hey."

Awkwardly I pointed to the stool across the table from him, "Mind if I join you?"

"Go ahead," he nodded, with a hint of a smile. Oh, good.

"So, um," I started, trying to figure out how to talk to him, "how are you?"

"Fine," he nodded. "You?"

"Fine," I replied. What now? What do normal kids talk about? I've heard there's a whole college culture that kids get into. But I had no idea what it involved or how to talk about it. Buffy would know. Hell, Spike would probably know. I wished he was here, if only to just hold my hand and make snarky comments to fill the silence.

Connor interrupted my thoughts by saying, "I remember everything."

"Every –" I sputtered. "Everything?"

"Yeah," he nodded, looking down. Looking significantly less happy than he had a few months ago, before fighting Sajean. I knew it! When Fred broke the Orlon Window, Connor was just too good. Too quick to behead Sajean. Too violent not to remember being The Destroyer.

"Are you okay?" I asked him, concerned. I know what it's like to lead a happy life and then have it ruined in a moment. Of course, my happy life had been Angelus' and I didn't get my memories back, but my conscience. It couldn't be that different, right?

"Yeah, I'm okay," he nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. "The new memories are all mixed in there with the old ones. It's kinda like a really violent, sometimes inappropriately erotic, bad dream."

"Sure," I nodded, trying not to remember the sight of seeing Connor and Cordelia together.

"But it's okay," Connor continued. "I know why you did what you did. And thanks."

I nodded. "You're not mad?"

"No," he shook his head. "This is better. This life." He gestured to the books and papers spread out on the café table.

"Good. I'm glad."

After a second of silence, Connor smiled up at me, "So where's Spike?"

Trying not to blush, I ducked my head and said, "He's busy. Fighting evil, you know."

"I thought you guys were attached at the hip or something," Connor said in a teasing voice. "I mean, he talks about you often enough."

"You've been talking to Spike? Why didn't I know about this?"

Connor laughed. "We've written back and forth a few times. You know, e-mail."

"Okay," I said slowly. Spike had been making an effort to get to know my son? Behind my back? That sounded just like him, doing something sweet, but secretly so it didn't ruin his image or something.

"And, Spike knows _everything_ about music," Connor beamed.

I scoffed, "He thinks he does. But when I try to listen to something perfectly good, the bastard takes all my CDs up to the roof and burns them!"

My son burst out laughing.

I smiled. "Of course you'd side with him."

"That's just too awesome!" Connor replied, catching his breath.

"Yeah," I sighed, wishing it hadn't been so long since I'd seen Spike, wishing he was here with me, even if he and Connor would just team up to make fun of me.

"Alright, I'll bite," Connor said in a no-nonsense voice, leaning back on his stool a little. "What's with the sad face?"

Sighing again, I said, "It's just … Will's been on a mission for three weeks."

"Will?"

"Oh, that's Spike's real name. William."

"Jeez, sorry Angel. Three weeks?"

"How about you?" I asked, wanting to change the subject so I wouldn't cry. "Interested in anyone here at school?"

"There's a few girls," he nodded with an embarrassed smile. "Though this year's been really busy. I haven't had much time to date."

Noticing the papers all over the table, I asked, "What are you working on?"

Connor smiled again, and I was glad I'd asked something right this time. "I'm putting together a resume for a summer internship."

"Do you want some help?"

"Have you ever written a resume?" he asked, eyebrow rising in suspicion, letting me know what an old fogey he thought I was.

"No," I admitted with a chuckle. "But I have really great handwriting."

Connor laughed. "You _girl_!"

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_Thanks for reading! From here on out, things are gonna get exciting, and I have a feeling I'll be working on it all weekend. :)_

_Don't forget to review!  
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	19. Not Fade Away Part 7

_A/N: I've been updating pretty frequently, so make sure you haven't missed any chapters!_

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Not Fade Away – Part 7

Looking out the window, I muttered, "It's time, Slayer."

"I know," she replied, taking up her bag and throwing me the car keys.

"I get to drive?" Angel never let me drive.

Buffy laughed, squeezing my shoulder affectionately. "My guys are closer to the meeting place and you've got a baby to deliver. Besides, driving and Buffy don't mix very well."

"Alright, pet," I agreed, flinging my bag over my shoulder and leading the way to the hotel room door. But there I stopped, turning back to her. "We probably won't make it through this."

"As per usual," Buffy nodded, tightening her long hair in its ponytail behind her head.

"One more, for the road?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow to let her know what I meant.

"But, Angel…" she pointed out.

"Wanted us to have a good day, luv. I know we had a very nice day together, but I bloody well don't want to die before I get to kiss you again."

Scrunching up her nose with a smile, she replied, "I don't either."

So I kissed her. I ignored what my heart was telling me about Angel and listened to the part calling out to Buffy while I kissed her chastely on the lips, breathing her in and valiantly keeping my hands to myself. A few seconds later, I pulled back and said, "Thanks, pet."

"Shall we?" she motioned to the door with a bright smile.

"Just another day in the life of a slayer, eh, Buffy?" I chuckled, opening the door and leading her down the hallway

"I think tomorrow," she paused as we got onto the lift, "a day at the spa."

"Sounds lovely, kitten," I smiled, knowing it was never going to happen.

* * *

When I got back to the office in LA, Harmony was the first to bug me. "Angel! Where have you been? What's going on today?"

Remembering that she'd been the one guarding Drogan before his death and that she'd never uttered a word about what had happened to him, I told her, "I'm going to go pay Lord Sebassus a visit."

"Really? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, Harmony," I growled at her. "You've already done enough."

"What does that mean? Why don't you ever trust _me_ with the big important secret stuff?" Fuck me, she was already whining like a child.

"Why?" I laughed, turning around to face her. "Because you're _evil_!"

"I'm not evil! Okay, I had a few years that I'm not so proud of, but I could be good! Why don't you have any confidence in me?"

"You can't be good, Harm. You don't have a soul!"

"I would if you had _confidence_ in me!"

I shook my head and left her down in the office, going up to my penthouse. I knew Hamilton was there. I could smell him, I could hear the beating of his immortal heart and the breath whistling through his nose. But I ignored him, picking up a box from one of the side tables in the living room. I flipped open the lid and lifted out the knife, which was long, narrow, curved and sharp. Yeah, it would do nicely. I sheathed the knife just as I heard Hamilton step from the corner where he'd been hiding, not so well, in the shadows.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, letting the light play across his face and his arms cross deceptively passively behind his back. Clucking his tongue at me he continued, "I don't think that's a very good gift for your visit to Sebassus."

"No?" I asked, playing surprised and disappointed. "But it's an antique."

"Much like you," he sneered. "I know all about your visits to certain loved ones today, Angel. And I have to admit, you appeared to be saying goodbye. So I wonder, where exactly are you going? The Circle had great plans for you."

"You know," I said, pulling the knife from its scabbard and inspecting it. Keeping my voice light and introspective, "I really hate it when you guys make plans for me. Reminds me too much of my dad."

"The great Angelus has father issues?" he laughed, subtly stalking closer to me.

"'Liam, you're worthless,' he would say. 'Liam, don't drink so much.' 'Liam, leave the servants alone.'" I turned to face Hamilton, brandishing my knife in a fighting stance and letting my voice go deadly cold. "'No, Liam, don't kill me.'"

"That's a lovely story, Angel," the liaison smirked, stepping closer, his hands still clasped behind his back. "Really top notch. Too bad you'll never get to publish that memoir. You see, the Senior Partners really look down on betrayal." With that, Hamilton rushed me, expertly slapping away my knife and grabbing the lapels of my coat. He swung me around once before launching me toward the window.

"Oh, shit," I muttered as I crashed through the glass and fell, down onto and through the skylight above the lobby. With a grunt and a shower of broken glass, I landed on the floor near Harmony's desk.

"See!" she cried as I hauled myself to my feet. "This wouldn't have happened if you'd had confidence in me!"

"Harmony," I groaned, picking a piece of glass out of my palm. "You're fired."

"For what?"

"You really have to ask? You betrayed me! You gave Drogan over to the Circle of the Black Thorn."

"But I thought you wanted him dead, Boss!"

"I don't care. You're evil and you're fired."

Harmony gave a frustrated harrumph and crossed her arms over her chest. "Can I at least get a recommendation?"

Sighing and wondering how long it would take Hamilton to get down here, I said, "Yeah, sure."

"But," she whined again as we both heard the elevator coming down from the penthouse, "if you're about to kick it…"

"It's already on the desk," I told her, pointing and keeping my eyes on the office where Hamilton was about to appear.

"Thanks, Boss!" she cried, jumping with excitement as she found the envelope. "You're the best!"

And then Hamilton was there, looking just as calm as ever.

"Uh," Harmony said, looking back and forth between the two of us. "May the best man win?" One more smile and off she went, escaping from the battle that was about to happen.

Watching Hamilton, I found myself wishing I had a weapon. Something bigger than a knife – a battle axe maybe. That would be nice.

"So, Angel," Hamilton started as he approached me, "I'm just so disappointed in you."

I dodged his fist and dropped, trying to kick his feet out from under him, but missing as he jumped back, deceptively fast for a guy in such a stiff looking suit. I tried to hit him a few more times, until he managed to grab me by the arm, swinging me up and onto the balcony so I crashed into the wooden paneling, shattering it as I fell. God, there were too many slivers of wood around for comfort's sake.

"I can't believe you, Angel," Hamilton chuckled. "You really thought you could make a difference here?"

"Yeah," I answered, pulling myself to my feet again just before he reached me.

"And you really thought you could kill Lord Sebassus?"

"No," I shook my head, setting my feet and blocking the next few blows. "I think I already did." Hamilton ruined my smirk with a fist to my face, making me reel until he grabbed me by the jacket lapel again, holding me up. "I poisoned his drink," I smiled through the blood pouring from my cut lip and my loose teeth. "I knew you were the one I needed to be alone with."

"I don't see how this is any better," he sneered, planting his knee in my stomach. The pain was dull, but intense and debilitating. I managed to fight back against it, chuckling at him again. Spike's ability to laugh in the face of pain was rubbing off on me, wasn't it? Unless it had been Angelus' in the first place. I couldn't remember with the room swimming around like it was.

"I thought the fight would be going better," I confessed.

"Ah," he shrugged before tossing me back to the main floor so I crashed through one of the pillars. Yes, there was way too much broken wood around. And damn, that hurt! I struggled to get up again because I had to keep fighting. I had to kill this bastard somehow. I had to make it back to Spike. I had to let him tell me he loved me. And hell, I really wanted to see Buffy again, too.

But then Hamilton was on me, pinning my arms with his knees and holding a stake above his head, ready to plunge it into my heart and dust me. For a second, I remembered Spike holding me down like this and how he hadn't killed me. How he'd hurt me and broken me, but he hadn't killed me. For a second I wondered if Hamilton would do the same.

No, he wouldn't. The Senior Partners wanted me dead, _now_, and he would do it, as calmly and as dispassionately as he did everything else. Goodbye Spike, my love. Goodbye Buffy. Goodbye Connor and Gunn and Fred and Lorne. Have a nice life without me.

* * *

After dropping Buffy off, I parked a few blocks away from the address Angel had given me. Getting ready, I made sure my boots were tightly laced, I made sure my jacket was settled comfortably on my shoulders, and I made sure my sword was sharp and balanced. One more task to go before I could see Angel. Just a few more bleedin' demons to fight, one more baby to deliver back to its rightful mum.

I approached the building quietly, keeping to the shadows as best I could. There, ahead of me was a Fel demon by the smell of him. And he was wearing a nice heavy cloak. How thoughtful of him. Quietly as I could, I sneaked around behind him and drove my sword through his spinal cord and into his heart. Before he could bleed too much, I pulled back my sword and caught the robe from around his neck, letting him fall out of it. Swirling the cloak over my shoulders and pulling the hood over my head, I kicked the dead demon under a bush with a few good shoves of my boot.

Cloak hiding my face, my hair, and my sword, I got into the Fel Brethren's building without incident, picking off demons here and there with a slice of my sword. God, I'd missed this. Demon killing. The righteous fire and crunching fun of spilling blood and guts, of snapping necks and watching the fire drain out of their eyes. I'm a killer. I know that. It's what I do, what I've always done. It's how I got my soul back. It's the reason I understand Angel as well as I do. And I hadn't done nearly enough in the past three weeks.

Eventually, I found the baby, a bright blue-eyed lad who smiled up at me when I let my robe fall. "You're lucky," I told him as I picked him up, making sure to support his head, "that I'm on a strict diet, little man."

Carrying the baby in one hand and the sword in the other, I set about exterminating the rest of the demons. Because if even just one were left, I knew he wouldn't be safe, and neither would his mum.

***

I closed my eyes, ready for the end, when suddenly, there were steps running toward us and Hamilton was knocked off me by a strong punch to the side of his head. A hand reached down to pull me to my feet and I finally focused on who it was. "Connor? What are you doing here?"

"Saving your ass, apparently," he replied, crouching into his fighting stance and ducking Hamilton's fist.

I joined him fighting Hamilton, and we actually managed to beat him back a little, working in tandem almost as well as Spike and I fight together. "How did you know?" I asked my son, wincing as he got hit with a glancing blow and staggered backward, leaving me room to kick Hamilton in the chest.

"C'mon, Angel," Connor replied, wiping the blood from his mouth and stepping back into the fight, "you visit for coffee and the world _isn't_ ending?" He scoffed.

"Too bad it won't help," Hamilton said, and I could almost swear he smirked as he forced a flat palm into Connor's chest, throwing him back with enough power to dent the elevator doors.

"Connor!" I called, watching out the corner of my eyes as the boy groaned and started getting up, very slowly. How dare this bastard hurt my son?

I went after Hamilton with renewed purpose. I had to protect Connor. I had to fight and live through this. I had to win, and I was going to.

But two minutes later, after a particularly bad run of punches and kicks, all deflected by Hamilton's excessive strength and skill, he had me pinned again. One hand around my throat, the liaison held me down on the sharp steps heading up to the balcony, the edge of one stair grinding painfully into my back. "You can't win, Angel," he gloated. "I'm a child of the Senior Partners. I'm a part of them. Their power runs through all my veins. It's in my blood, Angel. This valiant fight of yours is hopeless."

But I let my brows rise in surprise and hope, kicking at Hamilton and wrenching free of his grasp, scrambling to stand up on the landing above him. "Now," I smiled, watching Connor struggle to his feet over Hamilton's shoulder, "can you guess what word you shouldn't have said?" And my chest clenched again with hope at the surprised look on Hamilton's face when I slipped into my fangs and jumped him, latching onto his neck before he knew what was going on.

They always seem to forget this last weapon I've got, because I tend not to use my fangs as often as I used to, mostly because demons taste horrid. But Hamilton? He tasted like power, pure and unadulterated power in liquid form. With a wonderfully metallic aftertaste. He was somewhat human anyway, and I drank down as much as I could as fast as I could. I've drained a full grown man in less than thirty seconds before. It gave me awful indigestion, but I've done it.

Hamilton gained his bearings and threw me away from him, the flesh of his neck ripping under my jaws, after only a few seconds. But I'd taken enough. Like Drogan's blood, Hamilton's rushed through me, making everything brighter, louder, stronger.

"Wow!" I smirked, wiping a drop of blood from the corner of my mouth and licking it off my thumb while Hamilton growled at me and pressed a hand to his neck. "You really are full of it!"

And then I pounced. I turned Hamilton's power against him and beat him down with it, meeting him blow for blow and then some. After just a few seconds, he fell to his knees before me and I almost crowed in victory as I told him, "By the way, I quit!" just before snapping his neck. Eyes still open, Hamilton's lifeless body fell back, his lower legs folded at strange angles under him.

"Is he dead?" Connor asked, just as the whole building began to shake itself apart around us.

"Yeah, he's dead," I said, pulling Connor towards the stairwell. We crashed down all fifteen stories until we were outside.

"Get out of here!" I yelled, glad that there wasn't much shaking outside of the building. "Go back home, Connor!" I pressed some cash into his hands, hopefully for a cab and a plane ticket.

"But what if they destroy you?" he asked me, taking the money, but following me as I ran for my car.

"As long as you're alive," I told him, turning back and clasping his shoulder, "they can't. Alright?"

"Yeah," he nodded, passing my car and watching as I got in. "Try not to die, Dad!" he called just before rounding the corner and sprinting out of sight. God, I hoped he would be okay.

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_Review, please! Hopefully that will prod me into posting another two chapters or so before too long._


	20. Not Fade Away Part 8

_A/N: A little interlude before shit really hits the fan._

_**I've been posting very frequently. **Make sure you haven't missed a chapter! :)**  
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Not Fade Away – Part 8

When I got to the alley after parking my car a few blocks away, I seemed to be the first to arrive. But then I smelled him, the faintest whiff of that scent that was uniquely, "Spike?"

"Over here," he whispered, stepping out of the shadows. My chest tightened and I almost cried in relief when I saw he was uninjured. So far. "Journeys end, eh, Angel?"

Smiling, I took big steps to reach him as quickly as I could without running. "In lovers meeting?" I replied in recognition of his reference as I closed that distance.

"Aye, Peaches," he laughed as I grabbed him up in a hug. I held him close for a long time, breathing him in and pressing my body against his, until he whispered in my ear, "Thanks for staying alive, pet."

"You're welcome, hon," I grinned, kissing him roughly again and again. I'd missed the taste of him so much, I thought I might need to keep tasting him forever. We kissed like maniacs before I ended up with my back against a wall, Spike's lips and hands everywhere, my prick achingly hard, and I unable to remember how it had happened. "This fight isn't over yet," I warned him.

"I know," he said, panting and scraping blunt teeth over the skin on my neck, making me gasp. "But how the hell am I supposed to fight next to you if all I can think about is blood and sex?"

I tried to protest, "Everyone else is going to be here any minute."

Spike just thrust against my hips and grabbed my ass, saying, "Let 'em watch."

Growling, I pushed back at Spike, walking him into a darker corner of the alley, behind some boxes, thrusting him against the wall. "The demon army is going to be here any minute," I told him as Spike's fingers scrambled at my belt.

"Let _them_ watch, as well," he murmured, getting my pants undone.

Groaning as he tugged on my prick, I told him, "This is crazy, hon."

"I don't care," he said, dropping his pants and pulling me closer as he kicked them off one ankle, kissing me with bruising force. "I love you, Angel. And I need you, _right now_."

I laughed with my lips against his jaw. "_This _is where you tell me?" But then I realized how much pull those words had on me, and how urgently I needed him, to take him and please him now that I knew, for absolute certain, that he loved me.

In response, Spike sank his fangs into my neck, sighing through his nose as he began to swallow. I always forget how wonderful Spike can make it feel – like sex, like concentrated rapture, like surrender and yet powerful, like he's the one who needs me.

"Oh, fuck," I breathed, my game face rushing forward unbidden. It had been way too long since I'd been with Spike. Since I'd held him in my arms like this. Since I'd fed from him. Who cared if the world was falling down around us? Who cared if it was starting to rain buckets? Who cared if anyone might find us back here, friend or foe?

Scrambling, I grabbed Spike's legs and pulled them up, angling him so the shoulders of his leather duster and his head were pressed against the brick wall of the building behind him, my hands cradling the backs of his knees. Spike moaned and pulled his teeth from my neck, face changing back as he caught my eyes, pressing one palm against the wall by his head and slipping the other around the back of my head, fingers scratching at my scalp. "Please, pet," he grunted. "Need you!"

Spurred on by his words and his hands and the way his hips writhed his cock against my belly, I crashed my lips into his, fangs scraping the insides of my mouth and my tongue as I tasted him. Wiping my blood from his tongue, unneeded breath panting through my flared nostrils, I pressed into him, trying to get inside, trying to get home. "Too tight," I whined.

"Don't care," Spike replied, wriggling his hips to force himself down onto my prick. Then, he gasped in pleasure or pain as I thrust and slipped in further, Spike groaning and helping me take him. Here, rough and dirty in an alley. In the middle of the Apocalypse! I loved him just too damn much to resist.

"Fuck, Will," I breathed between kisses, nips, and licks all over his mouth and neck, thrusting into him as fast as I could manage. "I missed you so much. It was hell … remembering what _this_ felt like … and not having you there."

Spike laughed between the gasps, pulling me closer with one leg at my back. "At least you kept busy, bastard. Ah! I had to sit in a fucking hotel room. Ugh, harder! Trying everything I could not to go crazy because I couldn't touch you. That was hell!" He gasped and winced again.

"Am I hurting you?"

"Just enough, Angel. Bloody hell!" Spike pushed his forehead against my shoulder, and I could feel him trying not to scream out.

Kissing his ear, I whispered, "Tell me you love me, William."

"Love you, pet," he groaned. "Always."

Just before I slipped my fangs into his neck, I whispered, "Scream my name." And then I bit him, sucked his blood into my mouth, and came. There it was – that taste I'd given up my humanity for. That drink I knew I was hopelessly addicted to. That man I lived for and fought for and had missed so fucking much in the past three weeks.

"Angel!" Spike cried out in a rough and low scream, a patch of wetness spreading against my chest as he shook and clamped around me, letting me know he was there with me. My bite had pushed him over. Will was home, and so was I, and we clung to each other, riding out the pleasure as I tried to remember how to think.

Letting his legs down, shivering as I pulled my cock out of him so he could stand, I loosened my fangs from his flesh and closed the wound on Spike's neck with my tongue. "Christ!" he said, wobbling a little on his feet, reaching down to grab his pants from the ground and pulling them back on as I did the same. "I think that's the fastest we've ever fucked."

"No time for anything more," I agreed, buckling my belt and looking up at the sky, which was raining harder and harder by the moment. Sighing, I told him, "I don't want to die."

"Then we'll fight, luv," he said, putting his arms under my armpits and around my back, looking up at me, the whites of his eyes flashing in the dim light of the alley. "God damn, I feel good!" he laughed, hugging me tighter. "Like I could take them all on by myself. Are you on soddin' steroids or somethin'?"

"No!" I cried, trying to laugh and failing. "Though I_ am_ still juiced up from draining Hamilton. That might give you more of an edge if we're fighting for our lives." That was the moment I realized that all the wounds Hamilton had given me were healed, much faster than normal. This battle might just work out in our favor!

"Why did you drain Hamilton? Are you lifting the ban on eating humans that are evil?"

I did laugh at the hope in his eyes, leading him out of the dark corner now that we were both decent. "Hamilton wasn't human, Spike. He was an immortal. A child of the Senior Partners. Their _power_ ran through his_ blood_."

Spike chuckled in reply. "Well done, pet," he said, rubbing a hand up and down my back as we stepped out into the main alleyway. "I would have loved to see that fight."

"Connor helped," I told him. "He remembers everything. Showed up just in time to keep Hamilton from staking me."

"God, Peaches! If we get through this, remind me to thank that lad. I'll buy him a car or something."

"With my money?"

"O' course," he said, drawing me into another hug, and I couldn't blame him. I didn't want to ever let him go, either.

I sighed in his arms and wondered when or if anyone else would show up. Burying my nose in his shoulder, I breathed Spike in, noticing how he smelled more like Buffy than like me. But he didn't smell like he'd slept with her, not that I could tell, anyways. And the passionate way he jumped me a minute ago was definitely consistent with not having gotten any for quite awhile. I breathed in again, reminding myself what my boyfriend smelled like, what family smelled like. But there was my scent on him and Buffy's underneath that, and I marveled at how the mixture smelled right, enticing, like home and fate and love.

"Quit humpin' me, Angel," Spike laughed, and I was chagrined to find I was half-hard again, pressing myself against Spike's hip. All because of the way he smelled like Buffy. It seemed unforgivable, not that I'd ever tell him that was what had turned me on again. Laughing, he pushed me away with a hand carelessly splayed across my face. "I know you can't resist me, Ange, but we've still got a war to fight."

"Sorry," I growled, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself, a habit I still haven't lost after several centuries of being dead. Was it just ending the withdrawal that had me acting this way? Was it the death and mayhem that was going to start any minute? Was it the power of Hamilton's blood, mixed with the lust in Spike's? Was it the thought of Buffy with us, like the last night we'd had together? My last deep breath caught when I suddenly felt her approach. As I whipped around to watch the entrance to the alley, Spike inhaled deeply, trying to scent what had caught my attention.

And then she was there.

"Buffy," I breathed as she walked toward us. I knew I could never have her, and it was foolish of me, but I ached to sweep her up into my arms, to kiss her as hard as I had kissed Spike. To never leave her, no matter how painful it was for all of us. It hurt like hell, it _was _hell, but I stayed still, letting her come toward us.

"Hey, boys," she said in that almost cheery way she has and I just about groaned at the effect her voice had on my body, which still hadn't calmed down all the way.

"Hi, Buff," said Spike, leaning in to hug her easily, and I got a little jealous. Because my boyfriend was hugging someone else that he loved. Because someone else was hugging Buffy. How had I ever been okay with making love to them both at the same time? And why was I jealous now, if I hadn't been then? And then it hit me. Since they'd spent so much time together, I hadn't really been able to mark Spike as mine again. Not besides the bite on his neck and the probable soreness in his ass. But he'd behaved himself around her for _weeks_, all for me. So I tried putting my jealousy aside, realizing that Spike and I belonged to each other, and nothing would change that now. Not even the end of the world.

Buffy turned to me as Spike released her. "Angel," she sighed, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it. I tried so hard to hold myself back, but when she looked into my eyes, the dam broke. I grabbed her fiercely, picking her up off her feet so she was high enough that I could kiss her without stooping. Buffy giggled into the kiss and her levity made me love her that much more.

Spike cleared his throat, and I put Buffy down with chagrin. I looked to him, expecting jealousy or anger or betrayal, but all I saw on his face was a surprised but loving smirk. Weird. I wondered what had happened between them while they'd been alone all this time, why he wasn't as jealous as I thought he should be.

"I think the poof missed you, Slayer," he chuckled, clapping a hand on my shoulder that said he forgave me for getting carried away.

Buffy looked into my face and grabbed my hand again. "I missed you, too." She went up onto her tiptoes to look at my neck. "Oh! You're hurt," she cried, pointing to the bite mark there.

"That'd be my fault, luv," Spike confessed, raising a hand for recognition and tilting his head to show her my bite on his neck. That's right. We vamps belong to each other. Not to Buffy. Even as much as we might want that right now.

"You couldn't wait one more minute, could you?" Buffy laughed at him, before smiling up at me. Spike shrugged and I almost expected him to tell her how we'd fucked just a minute ago, just to see the expression on her face. But he stayed silent, running a hand along my back from shoulder to shoulder, just letting me know he was there.

I smiled back at Buffy, getting lost in her eyes, the beautiful arch of her brow, the adorable curve of her nose, the sensuousness of her lips. Okay, there was definitely something wrong with me. Spike was right here, at my side like I'd been dreaming about since he'd left, and I was getting too distracted by her, right in the midst of the most dangerous fight I had ever picked.

Clearing my throat, I asked, "Heard from anyone else?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied. "I saw Fred, or Illyria? We took out her group of demons no problem."

"Really?" Spike asked.

"Really-really. All dead. She said she wanted to go find Gunn before she came back here."

"What about Green Jeans?" Spike asked me.

"Lorne's not meeting us here." I told him. "He wanted out, so he's heading out of town on his own once his job's done."

"Willow and four or five slayers should be here shortly," Buffy said, her voice so delightfully sure, confident, as she read something on her phone.

"Connor?" Spike asked me.

"I told him to go home. Hopefully he'll listen to me for once."

"Who's Connor?" Buffy asked. "Did I meet him and totally forget, or something?"

"Connor…" I wasn't sure how much I wanted to get into it, or how much I wanted to tell Buffy about Darla.

"Connor is a subject for another day, pet." It was amusing and a little unsettling that I couldn't tell whether Spike was addressing me or Buffy with 'pet'.

"Well," said Buffy, sitting on the edge of a curb and looking up at us. "I know of one conversation that should probably happen before Willow does her thing and we have to make a break for it."

"Now, pet?" Spike asked, crouching down to meet her gaze head-on. What conversation did they have planned? Oh, God. They were leaving me. Together. Spike had reeled me in for one last fuck, lying when he said he loved me, and now they were leaving me.

"If it's big, maybe it should wait for later," I said, joining them in a crouch. "Big battle coming up and all. We don't need to be distracted."

Spike shook his head, "Naw, Buffy already brought it up. I know ya, Peaches." Spike smiled at me, completely without malice. "You'll brood over the mystery to the point of distraction, and we really don' want that."

"Fine. Just get it over with."

Buffy glanced to Spike briefly before he nodded and she left, giving us some privacy. "Ange, Buffy said you agreed to her plan, where we all escape to Scotland?"

"Yeah?" I nodded slowly, wondering what he was getting at.

"Well, she wants to be with us, she wants us to come home with her for good," he said slowly, taking my fingers in his and weaving them together.

Sighing, I asked the dangerous question, "And what do you want?"

"You," he smiled, using his free hand to trace my jawline, making me shiver. "I want you, Angel. I'm yours and you're mine. But that doesn't mean…"

"What?" I asked, tensing under his touch, sure I didn't want to know the answer.

"That doesn't mean that there won't be room for someone else, eventually."

"What do you mean by eventually?"

"When she's ready, when we're ready," he shrugged. "Eventually."

"So we'd stay in Scotland for good?"

"As fine a place as any, I figure," he shrugged. "I mean, we gotta go somewhere, and I'm fucking sick of this whole state, Ange."

"I know how you feel," I nodded, sitting down on the wet curb (at this point everything was too soaked to really matter) and pulling Spike closer. "And I've got the plane all set with a flight plan to Edinburgh."

"And think how nice it would be just to spend some time with her," Spike settled next to me under my arm and nodded his chin towards Buffy, who was watching the mouth of the alley out of earshot.

"God," I sighed, still getting the mixture of scents from Spike's skin. "You smell like her, Will. Her and me. You can probably feel how much that makes me want her, can't you?"

Spike nodded, "And maybe all of that wanting is yours, or maybe some of it's comin' from me, Angel. I don't know."

"So, what? Go to Scotland? Spend some time with Buffy? Date her?"

"Why not?" Spike nodded, leaning his head against my shoulder. "It could be bloody fucking good, pet."

"We need to be sure of us, first, Will. Not that I'm unsure," I clarified, squeezing him. "But solid, you know?"

"And," Spike added, brushing his cheek back and forth against my shoulder, "she needs to _earn_ us."

"Earn us?" I asked, thinking that over. "I don't know," I shook my head. "I'm not sure I could leave her again if I had to. If we had to. I mean, she deserves a normal life."

"Aye," Spike said, looking up into my eyes and saying very clearly. "But she will _never_ have a normal life, Angel. For a guy who's dated one, you certainly don't know slayers."

"No, not like you do," I agreed. Thinking for a few more minutes, I finally said, "Let's go to Scotland for a few weeks at least, and make the decision about Buffy later."

"Sure, luv," Spike whispered. "Best leave the ruling until later, but at least now you know what Buffy meant when she brought it up."

I nodded, relieved my first impression had been dead wrong. Hadn't it? "I'm impressed that you managed to keep your hands off her, Spike," I told him, my face falling when he shrugged sheepishly. "You did manage, didn't you?" I asked, terrified of the answer. Spike was _mine_, damn it!

"For the most part, yeah," he replied. "She was bloody temping, Ange, but it just didn't feel right. I was never really hers. Not really. But I am yours. I'm yours, Angel. Always. So I kissed her, I found out just how much she wants me, I told her how much I love her, but I didn't touch her, mate. I didn't. Because I'm yours, and I love you."

"Thank you, Spike," I breathed in relief. "Thank you for telling me. I love you, too."

"So?" Spike said, standing up and waving Buffy over before lending me a hand and helping me up onto my feet. "To Scotland, luvs?"

Buffy chuckled. "Only if we save the world again. So think about that when you're fighting, boys."

The rain was falling harder than ever and all of us were soaked. The ground below us trembled slightly, ominously, and it definitely felt like the end of the world. Maybe if it was, I wouldn't have to make any decisions or have any more discussions about who I loved and why and how. Spike and I could just fight side-by-side until we both went down in glory, trying to save the world. As champions.

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_Reviews make this Apocalypse come faster!_


	21. Not Fade Away Part 9

_A/N: I'm on a roll today!  
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Not Fade Away – Part 9

Angel said yes! We could go to Scotland with Buffy, if only we all survived long enough to see tomorrow. And sure, it might be a bad idea, but it might be the best place for us. If only we could get this fight over with! As I paced the alleyway, ready to start the fight, I caught a familiar scent mingled with blood, that most familiar of aromas.

"Gunn's coming," I called to Angel and Buffy. "And he's hurt."

Angel jogged to the alley entrance, joining me there with a hand on the back of my arm. Gunn was stumbling toward us, arms held up victoriously, a short sword still clutched in one hand. I noticed the sharp stab wound in his gut and more than one vamp bite.

"Hey guys," he gasped as we caught him and helped him back into the alley.

"Don'tcha know you're s'posed to wear that stuff on the inside, Charlie-boy?" I asked as we set him down on the curb, pointing to the blood seeping down one side of his shirt.

Trying to catch his breath, Gunn nodded and spit blood onto the pavement at his shoes before wheezing, "We ran into the army. Helluva lot of demons. The others are leading them this way."

"Others?" Angel asked, a worried hand on Gunn's shoulder.

"Fred, some slayers, a kid named Connor. Fred seemed to know him."

"Fuck!" Angel cried, standing up and pacing away, holding a fist to his hand in worry.

"He'll be fine, Ange," I said, standing to grab my boyfriend's hands in mine, squeezing them tightly to reassure him. "He's a brilliant fighter. And isn't it better, him being with us rather than gallivanting across the city trying to escape?"

Angel nodded wordlessly, his lips still pressed in a tight line.

"When will they get here?" Buffy asked Gunn, holding a hand to the wound on his stomach, putting pressure on it.

Hissing in pain and taking over from Buffy with a hand on his gut, Charlie replied, "I was just a block or two ahead of them."

Buffy nodded and then whistled sharply, getting Angel's attention back from worrying about his son. "Incoming!" she yelled, pulling a thin sword from a holster on her back and setting her feet in a defensive stance at the alleyway entrance. I gave Angel's hands one last squeeze before picking my sword up from where I'd set it and joining her. Angel did the same, taking a position on Buffy's other side, nodding to me gravely over her head.

And then the battle reached us, slayers and Connor moving the line of demons steadily back toward us, Fred blurring about, a gun in one hand and a long knife in the other as she cut down demons one after the other, before they knew what hit them. But behind the line, there were hundreds more demons, of all shapes and sizes, barely visible through the dark and the heavy rain. And as many of them fell, ten more came to fill the gap in the line.

"Angel, Spike, hold this line!" Buffy called out to us. "Let the others fall behind us."

"Aye!" I yelled back, catching Angel's grim nod of acknowledgment.

The first demon to approach me was a big wanker, all fur and horns, slipping past Connor and raising a big meaty fist I was sure he wanted to bring down on my head. Stepping to the side and twisting around, I swung my sword in a broad arc, grinning when it found its target, chopping messily into the demon's side. Knowing the sword would be too stuck in the demon's torso to bother with, I dropped it, leaping up to bring my fist down into its face as I fell. I had to block a few more blows until the demon fell and I could grab my sword, pulling it out before stabbing the demon again, severing its head most of the way off.

Connor passed by, leaning over with his hands on his knees behind me, catching his breath and letting me take out the demon that followed him. "You okay, mate?" I asked him as two more demons came my way, easy targets both of them.

"Yeah," he panted, with a laugh. "Man, am I out of shape!"

"Thought Angel told you to get outta town?" Another demon to my right was about to attack Buffy while she wasn't looking, so I swept forward and beheaded it before returning to the line. I saw that the two slayers and Fred were all recovering behind the line as well.

"I got cut off by the demons," he said, stepping up next to me and grappling with the demons bare handed. "Ran into Fred while I was running, she led us all back here."

I grunted at him in acknowledgment, barely blocking the Morningstar aimed at his head before it could hit him. Fucking hell! Angel would never forgive me if I couldn't keep his son alive, would he? A thought flitting through my brain amidst the chaos that was the battle, I yelled to him, "Mate! I think an axe fell near my feet somewhere if you want a weapon."

"Yeah, I see it," Connor called back. "Ducking in!"

I was glad for the warning, making sure I didn't hurt the lad on accident until he was clear, axe in hand. "So, Spike?" Connor asked as he beheaded a demon, bright purple blood spraying everywhere, hitting us both across the face in hot splatters. "How's it going?"

Laughing gleefully as I dismembered another opponent, I called back, "A little apocalyptic at the mo! How're you doin'? Classes okay?"

"Done for the summer, actually," he called back, killing two skinny zombies in one blow, skulls and limbs flying everywhere.

"And you came _here_?" I laughed back, pulling him down below the swing of a giant axe. The demon holding it must have been a good twelve feet tall, and Connor and I took it down together, occasionally kicking or punching another smaller demon away.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," he grunted, jumping up and kicking an enemy in the chest, rolling back until he was on his feet and swinging his axe to chop the tosser in half.

Things were going well for a few minutes, until I got caught by an opponent's blade, slicing into my sword arm too deeply to ignore. I roared in pain and frustration at my useless arm, switching hands and stabbing the fucker right in the chest, shoving him off of my sword with a boot and beheading him before he fell.

Dimly, I heard Angel yell, "Switch!" And then, he was at my side instead of Buffy.

"You're injured," he called to me, swiping at any demons that tried to get close to us.

"It'll heal," I yelled back, keeping my right side to him and fighting with the sword in my left hand, using my feet more often than not to fight back the never ending column of demons until either Angel or Connor could kill them.

Then Angel pulled me back behind him, yelling, "I set my bag down back there. It's got bandages and extra blood."

"I can fight!" I insisted, trying to push my way around him, but he just grabbed me by the collar and threw me back again. "Fine, you overprotective git!" I yelled, stomping back towards the bag he mentioned. I pulled my jacket from one shoulder and dug around in the bag before finding a dry bandage, which I tied tightly around the wound in my arm, using my teeth to secure it. Shrugging my jacket back on, I pulled a shorter knife from the bag, as well as a pouch of blood, which I bit into and drained in a few seconds.

"Patched up and ready to go," I told Angel, hoping he would let me back into the fight. We had to hold them off until Willow got here and did her spell. Only then would I stop fighting, with my boyfriend's permission or not.

"Fight with me," he ordered. "On my left." I grunted a response and joined him, slowly getting the feeling back in my arm. In the meantime, Angel and I fought together, him protecting my right side, me being another set of eyes and ears and feet. And it was glorious. We both had our vamp faces out, and he laughed and crowed with me when we took an enemy down. If something had happened to Willow and she couldn't perform her spell, at least we could have fun doing this, dying this way. At least we could work together, our bodies always sodding moving, always close to one another.

Angel sustained a few minor injuries and I resented every one, though I had no small number of hurts either. But we protected each other, and Connor, and even Buffy, as best we could, holding the line. Waiting for the witch. Waiting and fighting towards the inevitable end.

Gunn was still alive behind us, taking the occasional demon that got through between us, and eventually I saw Fred drop back beside him. She looked exhausted, though uninjured, protecting Gunn when he finally succumbed to his injuries and laid out on the ground, heart beating quickly and breaths rapid. When I looked back next, she'd found Angel's stash of supplies, brandishing a crossbow and pressing a huge wad of gauze to Gunn's injury. But the rain washed away everything – the stink of the demons, the sticky blood, the muck and mud they tracked around, the smell of pain coming from one of the slayers who fell, gravely injured.

Fred pulled her back next to Gunn and I wondered when the next of us would fall. The battle was a mess, and now we fought in more of a semicircle, with me and Angel on one end, Buffy in the middle and Connor helping the last slayer on the other side of her. Demon bodies piled up, helping us hold the line, making good cover for the arrows and crossbow bolts that fell onto us on occasion. One hit Angel in the shoulder opposite his heart, thank the bloody Powers, making him growl out in pain before he pulled it out and snapped it with one hand, beheading the demon in front of him with manic vengeance.

We were brilliant, we were mighty death to those who stood before us, we were champions, all of us, and we were losing. The evil forces pushed our line back further and further into the dead-end alleyway. Buffy was beautiful beside us, even covered in blood and muck and rain, all her movements focused, tireless, and deadly. And even Connor fought well, his fighting style again oddly reminiscent of Angel's. As the last little slayer fell into Fred's care, a huge gash on the side of her head, bright purple light flashed behind us. I turned, fitting my back against Angel's to protect us from the threat coming from behind.

But it wasn't a threat. It was Willow, that glorious bloody witch, and a dozen girls or so, all armed like slayers, all looking just about as beaten as we were. But when they regained their balance after being teleported into the alley, they joined us. The line was reinforced, though weary, and still more fucking demons came at us. There must have been thousands of them, a never ending stream of evil trying to snuff us out. Trying to overrun the world of men, starting here in LA. Starting here in the dark and pouring rain. Starting here with the best heroes our world had to offer. And they thought we would fall.

"Hold them for a few more minutes!" I heard Willow yell, the hairs on the back of my neck standing against the wet droplets of rain as magic filled the air.

A slayer tried to take a place between Angel and I until I growled at her, still in game face, making her start and stare at me warily until I flicked my blade, slicing open the demon in front of me, spilling his oozing guts before stabbing him in the heart and kicking him away so Angel could behead him, he and I moving on quickly to meet the next wave of opponents. No one got between us after that.

From behind us, I heard Willow scream with power and rage before she bellowed, "Fire in the hole!" and the magic erupted from behind us. Bright purple and green jets of magic passed us, weakening the demons before us and making the talisman Willow had given me almost unbearably hot against my skin.

Then, Angel shouted, "Connor!"

The boy was caught in a web of magic, his spine bending in pain, lifting him up onto his toes and forcing a scream from his throat eerily like those bellowing up from the demon army as they fell before the waves of magic Willow threw out everywhere. And one of these waves was hurting Angel's son.

Growling in rage, Angel charged at Willow, blinded by Connor's pain and the smell of his mortality acrid under her spell. Desperate, I tackled him to the ground yelling, "You have to let her finish, Angel! You can't stop this now!"

"Like hell I can't!" he growled, grasping the wound on my arm in one meaty hand and squeezing so I gasped out in pain and loosened my hold enough for him to push me away.

"Fuck you, Angel!" I cried, grabbing his feet and tripping him up. "That was low!" Angel fell half onto me, and just past him, I could see Buffy throwing her charm over Connor's neck, blocking the magic and ending his pain. Small sparks of magic attacked Buffy and she fell beside Angel's son, quivering and screaming in pain, but far from dying the way Connor had been. "Look!" I tugged on my sire's legs. "Buffy saved him, luv! Connor's okay!"

"Willow killed him," he growled, hitting me about the head as I pulled myself up his body, pinning his arms best I could with one of mine still mostly dead.

When I was looking into his face from just inches away, one arm and both legs wrapped around him as we struggled on the ground I snarled, "Connor's alive, you fucking moron! Buffy saved him. Can't you hear his heartbeat?"

"He's okay?" Angel said softer, finally focusing on me and not on his mission to kill the witch for hurting his son. "There's too many hearts. I can't pick out his."

Loosening my hold so he could roll over, I said, "Look! He's hurt, but he's alive. And Buffy doesn't look much better. She gave him her charm." Angel nodded and sighed in relief, squeezing my side in thanks with one hand before getting up and scrambling over to them. Buffy fell over, unconscious but still quivering as the magic washed over her.

I followed, heavy limbs prepared to defend all three of them from further onslaughts. But the demons we'd been fighting were all turning to dust, wave after wave of them succumbing to Willow's spell as it slammed into them. Magic made the air thick as I fell beside Angel, who had one hand on Connor's forehead, the other pulling Buffy against him. Carefully, he pulled his talisman out from under his shirt.

"No!" I cried when it looked like he was going to give up his protection from the magic to Buffy, grabbing his hand so he couldn't. "Don't even fucking think about it, Angel," I growled. "Don't leave me like this."

"She's hurt, Spike," he cried, tears in his eyes. "I'm going to try to share."

I nodded in understanding and relief, helping him hold Buffy's unconscious body closer against his so he could slip the extra cord of his charm over her head, settling it around both their necks. The magic around us settled into a background hum and all of our fighters were sprawled out on the ground, catching their breaths, holding their wounds, morning the few dead. I went to Connor, pulling him into a sitting position so he wouldn't drown in the heavy rain, flinging one of his arms over my shoulders and trying not to wince at the way his weight rested against my injured arm.

After a few more seconds, Buffy gasped loudly and opened her eyes, briefly struggling against Angel's hold on her, until she realized it was him. "Shh," I heard him whisper in her ear. "Shh, it's okay, darling. I've got you," he sniffed, burying his face in her hair. "I've got you."

"Angel?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder as he picked her up, making sure to keep her neck very close to his.

"It's me, Buffy," he nodded, turning to face me. "Have you got him, Spike?"

"Yeah, luv," I replied, standing with a grunt and hauling Connor up, bending and flinging him over my shoulder so I could carry him with my good arm. "I got 'im."

As we left the front line, joining the others around Willow, a loud flash of light cracked in the distance, followed by earth-shattering thunder that just about toppled me. "That was the portal closing!" Willow called out from her halo of bright magic, her hair whiter than mine and whipping around her face, her eyes completely black with the power. "One more spell to finish! Don't take off the charms!"

"Ha!" I muttered, hefting Connor's almost dead weight as I stooped to pick up my knife. "I'm never takin' this baby off."

Angel must have heard me, because he caught my eye and gave me a small smile and a nod. Unwilling to be apart from him any longer, unwilling to deal with anything that was going on around me, I went to him, pressing the shoulder of my dead arm against the arm that held Buffy's legs, resting my temple on his shoulder. He kissed my hair, muttering, "So far, so good, Will." I sighed and nodded against him, just enjoying the way his steady presence felt.

Just before the mayhem let loose again, I whispered, "Love you, Angel."

To which he responded, "Love you, too, jackass."

At the same time, Willow bellowed again, "Everybody SIT DOWN!" Without thinking, I dropped as best I could with Connor on my shoulder, steadying myself with my feet and the hand of my injured arm on the ground, just barely strong enough to hold me up as the world _changed_.


	22. Not Fade Away Part 10

Not Fade Away – Part 10

Everything was bright, everything was loud, and everything was moving. Magic was everywhere, singeing at my boots, my coat, my hair, trying to get around the protective charm. Beside me, Angel hunched over Buffy, the two of them riding out the storm as it washed over us, tilting and cracking the ground, whipping the air around violently, blinding us with light. I barely had time to look past Angel to where Willow was floating a good two feet in the air before she fell into the waiting arms of two girls on the ground below her.

And everything stopped.

For a moment I'd thought I'd gone blind and deaf, but my eyes and ears adjusted quickly to the darkness and silence that followed Willow's spell. Connor was still unconscious over my shoulder, but his heart was beating stronger and stronger with every passing moment.

As the human world slowly came back to life, people shouting in the streets around us and sirens blaring through the city, Willow started giggling, limp and hazy eyed in the arms of her slayer guards. "I did it!"

"What did you do?" Angel practically barked at her, startling Buffy in his arms.

"Used the life-force," Willow replied, sitting up unsteadily like she was drunk, "of all the demons in LA to lock the Senior Partners in their own dimension. No portals in or out until the spell fails." She laughed again, tiredly, like she couldn't help it.

"How long until that happens?" I asked her, expecting her to say five minutes or an hour.

"Depending on how many demons it killed?" Willow smiled. "Two or three hundred years." Then, noticing the burden in my arms, she said, "Sorry about the kid. If I would have known he was a demon –"

"Half," Angel corrected her.

Willow nodded. "If I would have known he was _half _demon, I would have given him one of the extra talismans." She dug around in the pocket of her dress and pulled out another charm, handing it to a slayer at her side. "Give that one to Buffy. The magic's going to be a little wild around here for a few days, so nobody take them off just yet."

Unlike everyone else, I noticed that the sirens were drawing closer to us, and I did not want to know what a bunch of human cops would think of our band of heroes. "We should move out, right quick," I said loudly, so everyone could hear me.

"I'm sure Wolfram and Hart's human enforcers are on their way," Angel nodded as a slayer placed a new talisman over Buffy's neck and helped Angel get his back over the blonde head and safely settled around just his neck again.

Behind us, Fred wailed, sitting up and whipping around like she was looking for something. "Where's Charles? He was right here!"

The sound of sirens, and now automatic machine gun fire was almost on top of us as Angel set Buffy, feet first, on the ground, hauling Fred up by her arm and calling back, "Everyone follow me!"

Tiredly, Buffy picked up a sword in one hand and an injured slayer in the other as the group of us limped along after Angel through a door into the building beside the alley.

"But Charles!" Fred cried, fighting against Angel's grip with none of her demon strength.

"Everyone take a quick look around," Angel ordered. "Grab anything you think you can use and keep an eye out for our tall black friend, Charles Gunn. He might have wandered in here."

Then, we were through a door, down a hall, and in a spacious lobby. The lights weren't on, but there was emergency lighting of a sort, dim red bulbs here and there near the ceilings. I set Connor down on the cushioned couch next to a frantic Fred as Angel left her there and crossed the room. He stepped behind what looked like a reception desk and to an icebox back there, whipping open the door and letting the little light illuminate the empty space.

"Spike!" he called, and I was at his side in a few steps, taking the cold plastic container of blood he shoved at me, following suit when he started gulping his down. As he drank, Angel went to a tall cabinet on one of the walls, opening it to reveal an empty weapons cabinet. He nudged the bottom of the cabinet's backing with his foot, stepping back as it clicked open and swung forward. "Take whatever you can carry, _cor_," he told me, pulling out a battle axe and strapping it to his back.

"Shouldn't everything be over, luv?" I asked him, watching the rest of the slayers scurry around the ground floor of what must have been an old hotel. "All the demons are dead now."

"Don't underestimate how destructive humans can be," he told me, slipping a dagger into his boot. "Especially when they're scared."

"Ah," I nodded, grabbing a few knives and a sharpened baseball bat. "And that spell Red did was pretty fuckin' scary."

"Yeah," he muttered, strapping a scabbard and sword to his belt. "How's Connor?" he asked, grabbing my hand and leading me back towards the boy.

"I'd say, 'bout the same as when he got run over."

Nodding and checking Connor's pulse, he asked, "How's your arm?"

"Gettin' there," I muttered, flexing it experimentally before crouching down in front of Fred and putting her hands in mine. "We'll find him, pet," I assured her.

"I just don't understand," she mumbled. "He was right there!"

"I'll stick my head outside again," Angel told her. "See if I can't find him."

"Aye," I nodded. "His scent is really faint in here."

"We used to live here," Fred told me as Angel walked away from us. "His room was on the second floor, over there," she pointed.

"I'll take a sniff around," I told her, knowing that we couldn't stay here for more than a few more minutes. We had to get to the airfield and out of LA before Wolfram and Hart's human employees caught up with us.

After a brief search, I found Charlie's room, but he hadn't been there any time recently. Not too far away was another room, which smelled a lot like Angel. I poked my head in, and clucked my tongue in recognition of Angel's sense of décor. There wasn't much left but the paint on the walls, a big mattress in the bedroom, and a crib next to an upholstered chair. I wanted to spend more time in the room, getting a sense of Angel's life before I'd joined him here in LA, but I couldn't. We had to go.

As I shuffled down the stairs, Angel stood in the middle of the lobby and bellowed, "Everyone back here, now!" I hurried down the rest of the stairs to his side, watching as everyone else joined us.

"Are we missing anyone besides Gunn?" he asked shortly, scanning the small crowd of slayers.

"No," Buffy replied, shaking her head. "Everyone else is here, including the dead."

"I saw some commandos outside, headed this way. We've got to go."

"But!" Fred screeched, her eyes going blue with rage. "What about Charles?"

"He's _gone_, Fred," Angel answered her, putting a stern hand on her shoulder. "He knew the risks. He knew he probably wouldn't survive." He signaled to me and I picked up Connor again, finding my arm had more and more strength with every passing minute.

"But he was alive the last time I saw him."

"We can't wait," Angel told her, grabbing her arm and leading the way out the door and through a courtyard. "We have to get everyone else to safety."

"As long as you _son_ makes it to safety," she spat, but allowing him to pull her along, "everyone else can just go to hell! Right, Angel?"

"If we knew where Gunn _was_, we'd carry him along too, Fred," Angel spat back at her, stopping at his car and turning back to the rest of us. "We need to get out to the airfield. How many cars do we have?"

"I've got Buffy's rental down the way," I told him, pointing.

"My car is over there," Fred muttered, pointing.

"Give me the keys," Angel ordered, growling when Fred hesitated. "Now!"

"Geez, Angel," she scolded him, holding her head high and dropping the keys at his feet.

"I'm sorry, Fred," he replied, scooping up the keys. "I'm just as upset about Gunn as you are, but we can't let ourselves get distracted. And I can't have you circling back around here when my back is turned." Turning to the group of slayers, Angel asked, "Does anyone who can drive know this city?"

"I do," a hand shot up. The owner was a college-aged girl wearing a jeans and a battered denim jacket, her hair short and held away from her face with a wide cloth headband.

"Great," Angel nodded, tossing her the keys. "We're headed to Lincoln Airfield, north of the city. If we get separated, just go there. What's your name?"

"Sarah," the girl replied, hefting a heavy battle axe over her shoulder as she jangled the keys.

"Alright, Sarah. Thanks" Angel said, giving me a quick look before ordering, "Connor and Buffy are coming with me. Willow and Fred will go with Spike. Everyone else spread out accordingly. And follow me," he said, taking the still unconscious Connor from my arms and leaning his head against mine briefly during the transfer. "This is probably gonna get hairy."

"Already too hairy for my liking," one of the girls called.

Buffy smirked and helped Angel get Connor into the front seat between the two of them. Just as I turned to lead my group to the car, Angel caught my hand and pulled me back. "Be safe," he mumbled in my ear.

"Aye, Peaches," I nodded at him, giving him a quick kiss before jogging away and catching up with the three slayers pulling a noodle-limbed Willow and a reluctant Fred to the car.

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Once everyone was settled, I started the car and pulled out of my parking spot, waiting half a block ahead of Spike and Sarah's cars so they could follow me. Suddenly, Connor started next to me and woke up, scrambling a little until he recognized me.

"Shit, Angel," he muttered, holding a hand to his head and looking over to Buffy on his other side. "What happened?"

"This is why I wanted you out of LA," I scolded him, noticing that both cars were lined up behind me. Pulling ahead carefully, looking around for enemies, I continued, "Willow's spell almost killed you."

"Why didn't it?"

"Buffy saved you," I replied, keeping my eyes on the road as I pulled out onto the empty boulevard. When I looked over, Connor was smiling at Buffy, giving her a small nod. "No!" I cried, setting one hand on the steering wheel and using the other to smack my son in the back of the head. "Don't even think about it!"

"Ow!" he replied, shoving back at my shoulder almost playfully. "That's not a good way to treat someone who just almost died! I was being polite."

"We've already done the whole oedipal circus, Connor. We don't need to go there again."

"Oh!" he cried, turning to face Buffy again as I navigated the street, making sure Spike was still there behind us. "This is _the_ Buffy. It's nice to meet you."

Looking tired but amused, she shook his hand, "I'm guessing your name is Connor?"

"That's me," he nodded. "What did Angel say about me?"

"Nothing," she said, looking around him and catching my eye.

"What?" I asked her defensively, carefully swerving around a group of people congregating in the street outside a large apartment complex. "We decided no contact would be best. I don't know much about your life anymore, either."

"Does anyone back there," she said, turning in her seat to face the four slayers squished in the back, "know what occipital means?"

Someone in the back answered, "Oedipal. Oedipus was a Greek dude."

"Oh! I remember that!" Buffy said. "For the talent show, Xander and Willow and I did that story. It was a play or something. I had to wear a toga and Xander had to talk about sleeping with his mother and killing his father. Totally," she paused, leaning forward to look at me and Connor again, "gross. Wait a minute. Did Fred call this guy your son a few minutes ago?" she asked me, sounding completely confused.

"Yes," I answered, stepping on the gas as I noticed a bright line of flashing red and blue lights down one of the cross streets. "But this really isn't a _great_ _time_ to talk about it."

"Wow," she breathed, watching the road as I swerved around slower moving traffic. "Yeah, you're right. But does Spike know?"

"He does," I nodded, looking back to make sure both sets of headlights were still behind us as I pulled onto the freeway. "Can we just drop it for now?"

Connor whispered to Buffy, "He's totally ashamed of me," before chuckling and looking back at me.

"Keep your eyes out," I frowned at him. "We're not free and clear yet."

"Speaking of," one of the girls in the back said, "there's a big S.W.A.T. van coming up this onramp."

"Fucking hell," I muttered, stepping on the gas again and veering into the leftmost lane, hoping Spike could keep up with me. Oh, and the girl behind him, Sarah, too.

At first, I thought the van was just city cops or National Guard, or something. But then the van started pacing Spike's car and the driver pulled a gun on them. Counting on Spike's reflexes, I slammed on my breaks and cut off the van behind us, making it slow down and weave away to avoid hitting me. Spike dropped behind the van, and sped up over to the other side. I could almost feel his glee as he sideswiped it, making it veer into the concrete median behind me, stopping dead in its tracks.

"The freeway's too open, Angel," Buffy told me, gripping her door handle so tightly, I was afraid she was going to crush it.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Let's get off at the next exit, try to lose them on the city streets."

Spike followed me easily, and I was glad to see Sarah was still behind us as we plowed through the wet and mostly empty streets. We ran into a team of four hum-vees a few miles away from the airport, and I swerved back and forth into oncoming traffic to dodge the bullets they sent screaming our way. But then, they all toppled over, one after the other on a cloud of blue magic.

"Willow must have recovered," I commented, leaving Wolfram and Hart in our dust again.

"Either that, or it's Bethany," the talkative slayer in the back piped up.

"Who's that?"

"One of Willow's witches-in-training," Buffy replied, sighing as I slowed down, taking the next corner at a more reasonable pace.

At the airport gate, I stopped for the security guy, saying in a friendly voice, "Hey, Doug!"

"Back again so soon, Mr. Angel?"

"Yeah. I'm taking my friends in this and the next two cars for a European vacation."

"No explosives or other hazardous materials in any of the cars? And did you hear about the earthquake that hit downtown?"

"No, sir," I replied with a bright smile. "Didn't feel the earthquake either, but we_ were_ supposed to take off fifteen minutes ago."

"Go right ahead then," Doug nodded, pressing the button to open the sliding security gate and waving us through.

"Okay, Dad," Connor said, turning to watch as the other cars followed us onto the airfield. "That was way cool."

"No one ever said bringing down an evil corporation from the inside didn't have its perks." I led the way to the Wolfram and Hart hangar slowly, so as not to arouse the suspicions of the security people. The plane was parked just outside the hangar, ready to go as I'd requested. I really hoped that the pilots were still in there waiting for us and hadn't heard about our insurrection. With the Senior Partners trapped in their own dimension and leadership of the company fractured, I was betting that the lower level employees – like the pilots – would still recognize my authority.

Parking the car and jumping out, I opened the trunk, pulling out a few bags of my clothes and weapons and other random things I didn't want to leave behind, tossing them in a pile on the ground as the other two cars pulled up next to us. The rest of the luggage and the wounded or dead were unloaded shortly, and the pilot met us with a friendly wave.

Twenty minutes later, we were settled in the plane and up in the air, on our way to Scotland. Buffy was debriefing her slayers, Willow was snoring in one of the reclining chairs, Fred was staring out the window, Connor was bugging one of the slayers for her name, and Spike and I were sitting together, sharing a bottle of scotch he'd managed to stow in his bags.

Sighing, I took another swallow, lacing my fingers in Spike's and handing him back the bottle, glad to see his right arm was working again. I _liked_ that arm. "Is this when the brooding starts?" Spike asked me, whispering against the skin of my neck.

"You said you wouldn't make fun of me," I smiled back at him, sadly. "We lost Gunn, and I have no idea whether or not Lorne made it out after he split up with Sarah's group."

"Don't forget," Spike added, "Connor almost died, Buffy almost died, and Fred hates you now. Oh, and two slayers kicked it."

"I really don't need your help remembering these things, hon."

"You want some help forgetting?" he mumbled, kissing my neck again and tilting his eyebrow up suggestively.

"In case you hadn't noticed," I replied, shaking my head, "this plane is very crowded. And how are you not completely exhausted like everyone else?"

"I haven't seen you in three weeks, Angel," he whispered, kissing me again, nipping at my neck with his teeth and making me shiver before taking a swig of the scotch and handing the bottle back to me. "I've got a lot of stored up energy."

"And a severe lack of modesty," I told him, drinking again.

Spike laughed and grabbed the bottle back from me, taking a few more swallows before letting me finish it off. "Maybe in a bit, when everyone's sleeping?"

"Maybe," I told him, probably almost as eager as he was to be alone together. Capping the bottle, I tossed it onto the carpet at our feet, trying to let the alcohol clear my mind and ease the guilt so I could get a little rest. Spike settled against me, pushing up and away the armrests between us and slinging my arm over his shoulder so he could lay his head on my chest. Before I fell asleep, I noticed that he'd gone very still, none of his muscles twitching, telling me he really was as exhausted as I thought he should be. I slumped down further in my chair, kissed the top of Spike's head, and listened to the soft rhythm of female voices until everything fell away into the darkness of sleep.

* * *

_Yay! There's an epilogue to follow, but I probably won't get that up until later this week, along with news about the next episode in this series.  
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_In any case, now that the main story is finished, please remember to review!  
_


	23. Epilogue

Epilogue

I woke up a few hours later to find Buffy sitting in the seat facing me, staring out the window.

"You okay?" I said softly, keeping my voice low so I wouldn't wake Spike, who was still sleeping heavily against me.

"I will be," she nodded. "I mean, any apocalypse where I don't die is a good one."

"Were you close? With the slayers that did die?"

"Not really," she shook her head. "But I knew them. Were you close to your guy? The one who went missing?"

"Gunn," I nodded. "Sort of. But at this point, I've lost so many of them, I don't know why I even bother."

"Who did you lose?"

"Cordelia," I sighed and Buffy made a sad little noise before I continued. "Wesley, Doyle, Darla, and now Gunn."

"Darla, your sire, Darla?"

"It was this whole fucked up thing. I'll tell you about it some other time."

"We lost Anya," she sighed. "And some of these young slayers don't last very long in the field. We've had several die over the past year. And I can't even remember all their names. Dawn's better about it, she keeps a list. Oh, and I thought we lost Spike." She pointed to the vampire sleeping in my arms. "Guess we just turned him over to you."

"Yeah," I nodded, petting his hair and wondering how he managed to sleep through it.

"Oh well," she shrugged. "Worked out for the best, huh?"

"It really did," I nodded. "Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to thank you for saving Connor."

"That's what I do," she shrugged. "And I didn't really understand what was going on - that the spell was killing him - until you went after Willow."

"Yeah, that was stupid. It's a good think Peroxide Brain stopped me."

"And here I thought you'd be the one keeping Spike out of trouble."

I laughed, quietly so I wouldn't disturb my boyfriend. Fuck, I was getting used to using that word, wasn't I? "I mean it, Buffy," I said, reaching out my hand so she would take it, which she did. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she smiled, squeezing my hand, and then just holding it, like she didn't want to let me go. "Can I ask why you never told me you had a son?"

"When we were together," I told her gently, "I didn't."

"Oh, so you adopted him? That makes so much more sense."

"No, he's mine," I said softly. "It's part of the fucked up story I'll tell you about later."

"Okay," she nodded, looking out the window again. It took all my willpower to take my hand back from hers, when all I wanted to do was hold onto her. Forever.

Buffy was the first to break the silence that followed. "I'm...," she cleared her throat quickly. "How long are you guys gonna stay?"

"At least a few weeks, if that's okay?"

Buffy smiled, first down at her hands, and then back up at me. "That sounds nice. I thought you'd get a good night's sleep and then be on the road again."

"Nah," I told her. "I did that for long enough. I've found I like having a real place to come home to."

"If you and Spike wanted to make Slayer Central your home, for good, I wouldn't mind."

"I think we'd like that, if you could deal with us being around all the time."

"It's better than not knowing you," she smiled, nodding her head sadly.

"Spike told me what you want, Buffy," I sighed. "And we just can't give you an answer now, or even any time soon. He and I need to be by ourselves for awhile," I told her. "And then, we'll see."

"That's the best I could hope for," she replied. "I'm just not ready to let either of you out of my life again, even if it can be painful sometimes."

"Besides," I said with a smirk, "I've recently come into a lot of money, and I've been looking for a good cause to invest it in."

"Really? We have been having some cash flow issues as Xander likes to call them. How much is a lot?"

"Hundreds of millions," I replied.

"Get out!" she yelled in surprise, startling half the plane, including Spike.

"Bloody hell, Slayer," he muttered as he sat up. "Give a bloke a chance to sleep it off, would ya?"

"Sorry, Spike," she mumbled, waving sheepishly to the rest of the plane.

"What's got the bird in a tizzy?" he asked me, stretching his arms and cracking his neck.

"I told her how much money I managed to swipe from Wolfram and Hart."

"Ah," he nodded. "And now she's imagining lots of shiny new baubles, eh, luv?"

"I'm imagining," she informed us, "not having to pull bank heists anymore. There wasn't nearly enough money left in the Watcher's council funds to house and feed everyone. And they've gone and unionized on me! Every slayer who works for the company gets a certain paycheck."

"What's your pay-grade, kitten?"

"Whatever's left over after paying everyone else. So I suppose it depends on how successful my criminal activities have been lately."

"Let's just hope that without their demon leaders," I smiled, "what's left of Wolfram and Hart doesn't have the resources to find the money where I've hidden it."

* * *

"We're going to land soon," Angel said, looking past me out the window. If there was one thing about Wolfram and Hart that I was going to miss, it was the bloody windows. To feel the warm sun on your face, even if it _was_ through necro-tempered glass, was a pleasure I never thought I'd have again.

"And then what happens to the plane?" Buffy asked.

"Maybe I can draw up the paperwork to sell it to the company."

"What company?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"The one Xander and Giles set up to deal with all the new slayers," Buffy replied. "It's a private school. No secret identities, everyone learning in one place. We kinda had to do after most of the trained Watchers got blown up last year."

"Sounds nice," I muttered, watching the clouds rise up on the windows as the plane descended, feeling like every inch closer to Scotland was that much further from the nastiness in LA.

Several hours later when Buffy had taken us home to her castle and set me and Angel up in our own suite, finally Angel and I were alone again. Setting a bag on the table, Angel slumped down into the chair next to it with a heavy sigh.

"Somethin' on your mind, Ange?" I asked, setting down my things and standing over him.

"Too much, hon," he smiled at me sadly. "Though it's nice to have a chance to process."

"Don't buy in to the modern psychobabble, luv," I chuckled, kneeling on the floor in front of him, fitting myself between his knees. As I slid my hands up his legs, I crooned, "Sometimes you just gotta learn to quit thinking and be glad you're still alive."

Angel leaned forward toward me and then stopped, saying, "Before we quit thinking, I have one more thought."

"And what's that?"

"You've got purple slime in your hair."

"Perhaps a shower, then?" I asked, standing and giving Angel my uninjured arm to haul him to his feet. Kicking off my boots and letting my jacket fall, I stripped on the way to our _en suite_ bathroom, which had nicely modern fixtures for being in a centuries old castle. Angel joined me as I turned on the water, stepping into the stall behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Mmm," I said, leaning back against him as the warm water sprayed my chest and shoulders.

"I'm never letting you out of my sight again," he mumbled into my ear, making me laugh lightly.

Turning in his arms and pulling Angel closer under the spray, letting the water pound down onto my shoulders and the back of my head, I said, "Appreciate the sentiment, luv. But a bloke's gotta have a little time to himself. Maybe an hour or so every decade."

Angel's laughter rumbled through my chest as he hugged me tighter, pressing his smile into the junction of my shoulder and neck. Needing to hold onto him, I flung my arms over his shoulders, using one hand to clutch his head closer and the other to trail my fingers across his upper back, just barely keeping myself from tearing up with joy as we held each other under the cascading water.

And then, after a good five minutes, I got bored and scraped at Angel's earlobe with my teeth, making him gasp and shudder in my arms. Letting go a little, Angel looked into my face with a smile. "Let's get cleaned up."

"Thought you'd never ask," I grinned, releasing him so I could scrub at my hair under the water, letting Angel watch me. Which he did for a moment, eyes taking my body in appreciatively, before he grabbed some shampoo. Hauling me out of the water stream, Angel batted my hands away, working his fingers through my hair and I noticed his hips inched closer and closer to mine. Eventually, we were pressed together again, hips and bellies and pricks touching as Angel pulled my head backward into the water, washing out my hair and scraping at my neck with his teeth.

"Bloody hell," I whispered, holding onto him as my legs threatened to give way under each bite, which was more forceful than the last, marking and bruising my skin with blunt teeth. And then his mouth was gone and Angel turned us around under the water, letting me go with a wry smile so he could bend under the shower head and wash his hair.

I found some soap and lathered it up, running the foam over Angel's skin, starting with his neck and shoulders and working my way down.

"That feels nice," he murmured, taking the soap from my hand and reciprocating. He stopped when he got to the slice on my upper arm, already scarring over. "Even this was too close, Spike."

"Too close to what? It'll heal."

"Too close to losing you," he whispered, working the soap over the wound gently before moving on.

"What about you?" I replied gently, letting him turn me around to work on my back. "Almost got staked before I could tell you ..."

Pressing his face against mine, ear to ear and cheek to cheek, he whispered, "I love you too, Will." Angel wrapped his arms around mine and we laced our fingers together over my stomach.

"Why did we have to go and sodding fall in love with each other?" I asked him, chuckling a bit and leaning back against Angel, brushing his cock with my backside.

"I don't know," he replied, rocking his hips just the tiniest bit. "But I'm glad it happened."

"As long as you're not _too_ happy with the situation, luv."

Stilling his hips and hugging me closer, he said, "That's one of the reasons I think we should stay here, whether we get back together with Buffy or not. Anywhere else, and I might lose myself in you."

"Ah," I nodded, tearing up again at his confession. Fuck, why am I such a bleedin' nancy around this man? "You always did know just the right torture for any occasion, Angelus. With Buffy around, you'll beat yourself up about wanting us both, torturing away the happiness, won't you?"

"I will," he agreed with a sigh. "And I'm sorry I can't give you everything. If I'm going to stay sane, I need to hold that little part of my heart back."

"I wouldn't ask for everything," I replied, trying to ease some of his guilt.

"No?"

"Just don't make me leave again."

"Never," Angel replied, licking my neck and loosing one of his hands from my grip so he could stroke my prick gently. As I bent back, seeking his lips with mine, I wondered how the bloody hell I deserved feeling this loved. Because, even if Angel couldn't give himself to me entirely, this - right here, right now - was perfection.

* * *

_The End!_

_Herein lies the conclusion of this 'season'. The continuing adventures of Angel and Spike will occur in a series titled 'The Vampire/Slayer Archives'. I've posted the first episode,** Living up to Expectations**. If you're not into OC stories, skip ahead to the second episode, **Legacy**, wherein Spike leads Angel, Fred, and Xander on a road-trip, searching for the cause of his strange visions.  
_

_As always, favorites and reviews are encouraged. And thank you, so much, for reading!_


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